#when he's actually completely shattered inside and doesn't know what the fuck to do about it

[lctibule]

ngl to this day i still want an au where overwatch gets to genji before hanzo kills him, where he gets recruited into blackwatch without becoming a cyborg, bc it'd be such a fucking disaster. smelly privileged playboy bastard who's too cocky for his own good and doesn't take anything seriously and keeps buying expensive food, drink, and luxury goods with overwatch's money... that's what you want in your black ops division, right? surely that won't inevitably cause any problems.

[not-neverland06]

I don't know why I bite

Logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: Had Mitski’s ‘I Bet on Losing Dogs’ on a loop while writing this, now I’m sad Inspired by the isle of dogs quote “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” BECAUSE OUCH (they’re both toxic, fair warning) bittersweet ending Summary: You've tried for so long to get Logan to accept you the way he does the others. You want so desperately to be someone who means something to him. But he doesn't want you, maybe he never has. And you both seem to be stuck in this loop of hurting each other.

You’re stability, security, but you’re never comfort. Try as you might, you just can’t get Logan to accept you. You want to. So desperately, you want to be something good for him. But he hates you, or at the very least, he can’t stand you. 

You don’t know what it is about Jean that he craves, but you wish you could replicate it. You’re not your friend, though, you never will be. And it’s pathetic, trying to change yourself to make someone else happy. You’ve never done that before. Yet, there is something about Logan that you want so desperately to help. 

You clean his wounds, metaphorically because he’s never once needed anyone for that. You lift him up after a rough mission and you remind him that the team does need him. They do love him. They want him in that uniform beside them, even Scott. 

You have your suspicions that he doesn’t appreciate your efforts. He’s never outright said anything to you. But you can tell the novelty of your kindness is wearing off. He used to brush your efforts off with a simple look. 

But he’s begun to be mean, saying these little things that you can never completely call out. A lot of what he says is based in truth. “Do you ever stop talking?” No, you don’t. You like talking with your friends, like sharing stories, and laughing together. 

“Has anyone ever told you to fuck off?” Yes, and it hurt. And it continues to hurt. “Why don’t you just shut up for once?” You can’t. You can’t because if you stop talking, if you stop distracting yourself then you’ll actually feel everything. You can’t stop talking, you can’t stop taking care of others because you cannot take care of yourself. You’re incapable of it. 

You can’t say that he’s being rude or mean. He’s just being blunt, and gruff, that’s just how he is. That’s what everyone tells you. They tell you to just ignore when he’s being a dick because he doesn’t really mean it. That’s just what he does because he doesn’t know any other way. 

You shouldn’t have listened. You shouldn’t have placed so much faith in others. You should have just left him alone. Maybe then he wouldn’t have snapped, wouldn’t have said such cruel things to you. 

It broke you a little inside. Hearing what he really thought of you. Despite it all, despite the cruel words and harsh attitude, you had hope. You thought they were all right, that he just needed to warm up to you. And you so desperately just wanted to be something for him to lean on because you’ve never had that before and you know what it feels like to be so lonely. 

“Hey, Logan.” You step into the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for something to snack on. “Weren’t there apples in here?” You’re talking aloud, but it’s meant for yourself. 

It’s that moment that it all finally comes crashing down. This pathetic illusion that he wants anything to do with you or your friendship. It almost makes you laugh, that this mundane moment is when you feel your heart shatter in your chest. When you get so sick to your stomach your bones ache and your limbs tingle with this odd phantom pain. 

“Could you just shut up?” his voice is low as he leans over the counter. His fingers spin idly around the neck of a beer bottle. You wonder how he managed to sneak it in here, Charles has banned alcohol. You watch the condensation collect on the cracks of his palm and shrug the pain off. 

You’re used to this. This is normal. “Right,” you squeeze past him and look in the pantry. “Sorry,” you whisper, if you speak any louder your voice will crack and that will just make everything worse. 

“You’re just always around, aren’t you?” You glance over your shoulder at him but you don’t respond. Deny it as much as he wants, you have gotten to know him. You recognize the tells. 

He’s had a bad day, he needs a way to get it out of his system. You just happened to walk into the kitchen at the wrong time. It could be anyone he snaps at, but today it’s you. Which seems to be happening more often. 

You do what you did when you were a kid, eyes forward, face flat. You keep yourself neutral, let yourself sink into that apathetic place so whatever he yells at you doesn’t hurt. “You tiptoe around me, act like I’m this wounded stray you need to fix.” 

Your brows pinch in confusion and you shake your head. Second mistake. You shouldn’t have walked into the kitchen in the first place. And you definitely shouldn’t have argued. “No, Logan, that’s not true-”

Although, maybe he has a point. You can’t fix yourself so you try and fix him. 

“I don’t know why they keep you around. You contribute nothing, you do nothing for any of us. We can’t even take you out on the field,” his voice begins to raise and you find yourself backing into the cabinets, hating the way this is beginning to make you feel. “You’re so fucking sensitive we can’t trust that you won’t just kill us all if something goes wrong! You don’t deserve a spot on this team!”

You jump back as he shouts at you, hip jamming into the corner of the island so hard you have to bite your lip so you don’t make a noise. Spit flies from the corners of his mouth, the ferocity of his voice and words are that strong. 

You take in a few quick breaths, blinking the sting out of your eyes and focusing on the wall behind him. “Get it through your thick fuckin’ skull,” he warns, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you around. Leave me alone.”

You don’t cry, you can’t cry. You don’t speak because you’re afraid of what other cruelties that might provoke. Maybe you would understand all this if you’d been bugging him when he’d already made it clear he needed space. All you wanted was a fucking apple. 

You don’t feel much of anything as you slowly nod your head, not agreeing but appeasing. He watches you with something like surprise on his face. You don’t know that he’s wondering why you’re not saying anything back. 

It’s why he yells at you when he doesn’t know what to do. You can take it, you can put him in his place. But you’re not speaking and he doesn’t know why this time is so different. 

Finally, you turn on your heel and leave, footsteps soft as you retreat back to your room. Logan watches you go with an odd twisting feeling in his stomach. He didn’t think you could be pushed too far. You seem to always just have this endless patience. 

You treat him gently, even when the others get sick of the way he processes things. Today was hard, you just happened to be nearby. He didn’t mean half of what he said. He doesn’t know why he lashes out the way he does, he just doesn’t know what else to do. 

He doesn’t like it, contrary to what the others think. He doesn’t like hurting you or being mean to you. He doesn’t know what it is about you that provokes this side of him that no one else does. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid. He can’t say what he’s afraid of, he’s never been able to admit it to himself. 

He’s yelled at you plenty of times before. You don’t know what it is about that one day that was so different. Normally, it doesn’t bother you. You’ll set him straight or give him space. But today, it was needless. You weren’t doing anything. 

You didn’t deserve to be lashed out like that, cornered and scared in the place you call home. 

It was unprovoked and maybe it finally made you see him for what he really is. A bully. It doesn’t make sense, how he can be so kind and caring to Marie. How he can help Jean and Ororo so sweetly, but can’t muster one kind fucking word for you. 

You don’t let yourself cry, even though you want to. Even though there’s a cloying, suffocating feeling clawing its way up the back of your throat. His room is on the same hall as yours and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made you cry. 

You, at the very least, finally stop asking yourself what you did wrong. Instead, you start to wonder what’s wrong with him. You get sick to your stomach, thinking about all the ways you cared for him. Remembering how much of yourself you gave up to make him happy. 

He was right about that, you are pathetic. He never deserved your help or your patience. You should never have offered him any grace. You’re embarrassed that you didn’t see it sooner. This isn’t a little boy pulling your pigtails because he likes you. This is a grown man who can’t regulate his emotions and decided you were the next best punching bag. 

You take in a few deep, shaky breaths and close your eyes until you’re forced to fall asleep. You don’t want to think or feel any of what just happened.

Logan hovers in front of your doorway for ten minutes before he heads downstairs. He’s got a class to run, he doesn’t have time to wait for you to wake up, he reasons. He’ll find you later and apologize then. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize he had gone too far yesterday. Even if you could take his usual level of dickishness, you didn’t deserve it. He just didn’t know what to do around you. You made him confront so many different conflicting emotions. It’s like every time he looks at you his brain is being ripped in twenty different directions and he doesn’t know what to do. 

You’re so endlessly patient and gracious. It makes him realize he wants to be a better man and he can’t be. He resents you slightly for that. For having such a wonderful idea of what he could be, even though he knows he can never be that man.  

He doesn’t find you that day. He makes up enough excuses that he goes to bed promising himself he’ll apologize tomorrow. Which he never does. Because actually saying it would be an admittance that he knows what he did was wrong. And what does that make every other time he’s yelled at you? What does that make him?

It returns to the same cycle it always does. He waits a few days until things are cooled down and you’ll have already forgotten about it. He starts to feel overwhelmed and he goes to find you because you always know what to do. And if you don’t, then you provide an outlet. 

He spots the back of your head in the gardens. You’re with Jean and he expects the usual dirty look she gives him after you’ve both fought. Instead, she smiles warmly at him and waves. Which is odd, usually you tell her about what’s happened between the two of you and she holds the grudge longer than you do. 

You glance over your shoulder, a small smile on your lips, to see who she’s waving at. Logan sees the way it falls when you see him and his steps falter. You never do that, you always look so happy to see him. 

“Jean,” he greets curtly, eyes on you. 

She says hello and they both look to you. Normally, you would have already spoken. But you don’t, you turn your eyes to the kids. Jean frowns and turns back to him, “Everything alright, Logan?” 

He can’t take his eyes off of you. You read his moods, and know them better than he does. You should have already offered to talk. Maybe he really does need to apologize. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

He says your name and your brows just barely raise in question, though you couldn’t seem less interested. “Need to talk to you.”

You shrug, “Sorry, can’t. I’ve got a meeting to get to.” You brush past him and walk back into the mansion. He and Jean both watch you go, each of them shocked by how dismissive you were. That’s never happened before. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Jean demands, the smile gone from her face and her tone deadly. She glares at him, clearly expecting an answer. But he doesn’t have one. Because this is something he’s done a million times and this has never happened. He doesn’t know what’s gone wrong. 

He thought your absence would be a relief. After a few more days he begins to realize that he was wrong. He thought that not having someone constantly badgering him to be better and set good examples for the kids would be a relief. 

There’s no one nagging him. No one forcibly checking on him after a mission when he doesn’t need it. No one to care. 

There are chunks of his day that you would normally fill that now seem to drag on. Lunches are quiet without you constantly rambling about nothing in his ear. When there’s friction among the team and they’re ganging up on him, you remain silent. He supposes he should be grateful. 

You finally listened to him for once. But he’s angry. He always seems to be angry and he doesn’t understand why. There is so much of his mind and life that was stolen from him. He wonders if he got any of it back if it would explain why he is the way he is. 

It doesn’t matter because it wouldn’t fix what he can’t undo. He sees you with the others constantly. You’re always laughing, always happy. Like nothing’s happened. Like you haven’t cut him out of your life completely. And then, when you’re around him, it’s like a switch is flipped. 

You’re irritatingly silent. Practically a brick wall. He pokes and he prods, using every weapon in his arsenal to try and provoke a reaction from you. But you give him nothing. 

There is an ache in his chest when he sees the way your smile drops when he walks into a room. He doesn’t understand the feeling. This is exactly what he wanted. To be left alone. 

It feels so wrong. 

It happens in the kitchen again. Odd, that that’s become such an important place to you. 

Your back is to the entrance and you’re busy slicing up some fruit for yourself. You don’t hear him come in. Not until he speaks. “I’m-” you jump at the sound of his voice. Whirling around with a shocked look on your face. 

He chuckles a little at the reaction but when you don’t smile he stops. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. It sounds semi genuine. But it also sounds like it hurt him to say. “I’m sorry, so can you please just stop ignoring me?”

You shrug and go back to cutting up the fruit. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“No?” He demands. “Then why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t we eat lunch together anymore? You can’t even fucking look at me.”

You slam the knife down on the cutting board, taking in a deep breath so you don’t do something you regret. Your nails dig into your palms, trying to center yourself. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted,” you utter, voice low. 

You turn just enough to make eye contact. “I’m leaving you the fuck alone. That’s what you wanted right? I don’t think I could have misheard while you were screaming it at me.” You turn to leave, abandoning your fruit because you don’t have an appetite anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispers before you can make it out of the kitchen. “I,” he stops and starts again, “I miss you. I’m not a mean person, I don’t know why I hurt you.”

You stare at him, face unflinching. You give him nothing and he knows it's what he deserves. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it-”

“Good,” you cut him off with a disgusted sneer. “Because I’m not looking to hand it out. Especially not to you. You only want me because you miss what I do for you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You don’t deserve me.” You turn on your heel and walk away from him, unwilling to entertain any more conversation. 

This is what you’ve always done. When someone hurts you, really irrevocably hurts you, they’re gone. They’re gone from your life. From your mind. More importantly, your heart. You don’t have any obligations to entertain him or speak with him outside of professionalism. 

You thought cutting him out of your life would hurt more. But it’s like you can breathe for the first time in months. You’re no longer striving to gain someone’s approval. You’re not chasing after something you’ll never catch. 

You can find happiness within yourself. Begin to do the things you would do for him, for you. It’s a relief. And a little sobering. Perhaps, in your mission to help him, you’d burdened him with the desires you had for yourself. 

You believe that you’re unfixable. You believe there are facets of yourself that are too dark to face. That you are undeserving of love and kindness. You recognized those things in Logan and tried to force on him what you’ve always wanted for yourself. 

It was wrong. A mutually toxic relationship that never would have made it far had anything actually happened between you two. You can’t paint yourself the victim and you never meant to. It’s why you didn’t tell anyone what happened between the two of you. 

They wonder, of course, why you no longer spend lunches together. Why you no longer rush to defend him when he doesn’t need the help. Why you don’t smile around him anymore. There are questions that you deflect. Saying, you just needed space from each other. 

Your harm was a silent one. Forcing him into a mold he was never going to fit in. Despite the claims of loneliness, you can see the way your absence benefits him. He’s calmer, less likely to yell when provoked. He just needed the space to find himself. Not to have someone try and make him something new. 

You feel an ache in your chest when you think about how differently things could have been had you just let him be. If you had let things happen between the two of you naturally then maybe you really could have been something great. 

A month goes by without speaking to each other. After that day in the kitchen, he seems to understand that there’s no putting back together what was broken. It was already cracked to start with, the break was inevitable. 

You warm slowly to him. Give him polite greetings when you see him. And he smiles at you sometimes, on the jet when Scott says something ridiculous, or just in passing. It’s nice, being a stranger to him. It’s comforting. 

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

You look up from the paperwork in front of you and give Logan a small smile. He’s hovering in the entrance to the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for your permission. “Hi,” you say softly.

He takes that as the go-ahead and walks in, heading for the fridge. You listen to him rummage around before he pulls out a beer. “Where do you hide those things?” You ask, and you almost bite your tongue. This is the most you’ve spoken to each other in a long time. It feels wrong to joke so easily. 

“Can’t tell you or Wheels is gonna stop me,” he grumbles. You just nod and turn your head back to your paperwork. It’s silent for a few minutes after that. He sits a little further down the island, nursing the beer while your pen scratches across the reports your students gave you. 

He clears his throat and you glance over at him from the corner of your eye. “I,” he starts but quickly closes his mouth. “Ah, forget it.”

Your brows pinch in confusion but you decide to leave it. You oddly don’t feel scared or anxious. You don’t worry that he’s going to snap at you if you provoke him. You choose not to because you’re not interested in engaging. 

You don’t really recognize the man before you. Maybe it’s because you never tried to get to know him before you tried changing him. It causes that familiar clenching feeling of guilt in your gut. 

You know if you gave him a chance things would be different. You could be friends, real friends. There’s a reason you latched so readily onto him. There’s a familiar pain in him that’s reflected back in you. 

You stand up, shuffling the papers into a neat stack and pushing your stool in. Logan straightens up as he watches you wash off your dishes and collect your items. Before you can make it out of the kitchen he’s standing from his chair. 

He stops in front of you, hand outstretched before him. “Logan,” he greets. 

You tilt your head in confusion, glancing between him and his hand before it finally clicks what he’s trying to do. Start over, reintroduce yourselves. Actually give each other chances to understand the other. 

This all started because you shared the same pain and you resented each other for it. But you could comfort each other instead. Be pillars of stability and strength in each other’s lives instead of trying to tear the other down so you don’t see yourself in them anymore. 

You were both too afraid to face who you truly are and it nearly destroyed you. But this is a stranger in front of you. You don’t know this man, but you think you’d like to. You give him your name and shake his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you,” you whisper, a slight joke to your tone. 

He holds on for a second longer than he should, the breath rushing out of him like he hadn’t thought you would accept. You smile softly at him before you pass by to go upstairs. His hand lingers on your, skin tingling under your touch until you can no longer hold on. 

You don’t know what it means for you, this odd new truce between the two of you. But you won’t linger on that tonight. You’ll go to bed feeling comforted that for the first time since you’ve met him, Logan has made you happy. 

a/n: felt more like a diary entry than a fic, sorry lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always ♡

[yandere-sins]

How would yandere stepbrother react if he walked in on his sister having sex with someone else? 🙈

Warning: Sexual Content

"Walked in" might be a bit of a stretch. The moment you bring anyone over (be it a friend or a 'friend'), he's standing in front of your closed bedroom door for the entirety of the visit, his breath bouncing off from the wood as he stares it down. Stepbro wishes the door would just evaporate, but that's not possible, so he can only listen and wait.

There have been countless times when Stepbro waited until your visitor had to leave. There would be quite a ruckus if he threw out people without reason in front of your parents all the time, so he has to sometimes stick it out (not always, he is also notorious for implementing himself into your visits if he must), no matter how much he hates it. The possibility of you bringing someone home you were romantically interested in never crossed his mind, especially since he made it so clear that you belong with him exclusively. Stepbro also doesn't think you'd be foolish enough to actually doom some poor lover of yours. He knows that you know what he'll do when he gets his hands on the person putting their hands on you. So it's no surprise that he lets out an audible gasp in shock when the conversation becomes more flirtatious and turns into kissing noises on the other side of the door. 

He's about to burst open the lock on your door and ruin the mood, hunting down the bastard daring to get this close to you and snapping their neck when he suddenly hears it. A moan. Your moan. An actual, audible moan of delight. Instantly, he's hard, his erection painful between his legs while he fiddles with his phone. A war breaks out inside of him between wanting to put an end to this immediately and to enjoy it just a little longer for the sake of genuine emotions he is never allowed to record otherwise. Even when he happens to intrude on you masturbating, there has never been something as delightful as the sounds shuddering off your lips right that moment. 

Squeezing the bulge in his pants, he quietly turns the doorknob. Stepbro spies through the gap as you let yourself be pleased and submit to someone other than him, biting his lip while trying to imagine it's himself between your legs, drawing out these lovely sounds from you. Directing his phone at you, he presses record, zooming in on your face, body, your dripping cunt as best as he can while gripping his length so hard it's almost painful. If it was just him at that moment, he'd probably have cum already, but knowing you are right in front of him makes him want to wait for you even though it's not him who will take the credit for your orgasm.

Occasionally, his thoughts slip out of the fantasy that it's his cock drilling into you, anger overcoming him again at the person taking you from him. But the very next second, you moan loudly, and Stepbro just melts against the doorframe, imagining himself to be the one pleasing you. It's so fucking hard to draw out his orgasm, but he does it out of love for you, even if it hurts not to cum like the desperate little man he is, watching from afar.

The illusion is completely shattered when he watches you climax, screaming the name of someone else and not his. At the same time, he shudders, jizz landing against the cold wood of the door instead of your lovely, warm skin. It's a harsh slap back to reality as he draws away from the door, feeling ashamed about letting someone else do this to you while you giggle and kiss the other person as if they just made you very, very happy.

It's wrong, and you must know this. You'll only ever be happy with him. Your stepbrother is the only person in the whole wide world that will ever love you right. He knows everything about you and has dedicated his life to you. No one else can achieve happiness for you. At least, they're not supposed to.

However, even if it's a small solace in the face of such a grounding experience, he realizes his phone is still recording as Stepbro returns to his room. Listening to you two on the other side of the wall next to his bed is much too painful for him, so he locks the door behind him and slips into bed. Gripping his cock once more before pressing play and closing his eyes. Letting your moans take him back to better times.

The ones where it's only you and him, his cock slipping into your warmth and drawing the lovely sounds of passion from your lips. No one is interrupting you two as he makes you cum over and over until you scream his name in delight, thanking and begging him like the sweet person you are. He can almost imagine his hand as your hole instead as he jerks himself off roughly, trying to forget the guilt of letting anyone else touch you.

And if he ever gets his hands on that other bastard, it'll be Stepbro's utmost pleasure to show you a video of the dead body as an exchange for this first-class video of you cumming, your expression forever burned into his mind.

[mychlapci]

here's a crackship porn idea. getaway fucking optimus prime.

getaway gets so uncharacteristically flustered. this is an actual prime, someone really chosen by the matrix and who led the entire faction through the war.

he's heard stories about the prime's spike. it was probably the type of rumour mill gossip spread by new recruits and freshly made mto's. that the prime is well endowed and so kind and caring in the berth. that it was modded to the pits and back, with studs that scraped along the inside of a willing valve and a fat knot that locked the prime and his chosen partner together as they were pumped full of thick transfluid all while the prime cooed praise and affection on his partner

getaway wants that, he craves that type of love from someone he's idolized for so long. he wants to be acknowledged for his accomplishments. for all the torture he endured at tyrest's hands and for the pain he's gone through for the autobot cause. he didn't get a chance at a peaceful life and he wants someone to tell him that his trauma was worth it. that he didn't watch people and soldiers he cared about die for nothing

and part of me wants to say that optimus gives it to him, showers getaway with praise and lavishes him with compliments and words of affection so sweet that getaway nearly melts into the berth with the weight of such statements. part of me wants to say that optimus takes him slow, stretches him out one massive finger at a time, spreading extra lubricant over getaway's valve to make sure that it doesn't hurt when he finally slips his spike so sweetly inside.

part of me wants to say that he makes sure getaway overloads his circuits out, so much so that it knocks him into reboot. optimus making sure that he's slow and gentle and careful with a soldier who has gone through so much and deserves such gentle treatment. that optimus would be a gentleman who always treats his partners with the kindness that he would expect for himself

but i think that optimus wouldn't care that much. i think he would view getaway as a stress relief toy, a mere object to house his spike in for a few moments of blissful calm on optimus' end all while getaway has to hold back tears as his fantasies of a peaceful and kind prime are shattered into oblivion.

i want him to stagger out of optimus' habsuite; kicked to the curb with an aching valve and heat still lingering in his circuits because optimus couldn't even be bothered to rub his node long enough to overload.

i want him to cry because it's the worst interface of his life. his tears stain the berth cover as he frantically presses a vibrator against his valve lips in a desperate attempt to try and replicate the fantasies he held for so long. he wants to think that it wasn't truly consensual, that he didn't get what he signed up for. but the truth is, and getaway knows it deep down, that he fully agreed for a night with the prime, and whatever it entailed and that the unsatisfactory sex was just what he would have to deal with.

i want him to complain to skids and prowl and all the other members of spec ops that optimus is terrible in berth and i want him to get made fun of.

every knows that optimus is terrible in berth. the war has completely ruined whatever the optimus that the fresh faced recruit gossip spawned from. he's got no time for slow and steady and kind, anyone could've told getaway that. what a fool for daring to hope.

-burnt ice anon (i promise i don't hate getaway, i love him really i do)

damn, see? I was not kidding about a great scholar amongst our midst… God, I love it when Optimus is a little mean, a little uncaring, a little rough. He has a lot on his shoulders, he doesn’t have the time to be futzing around having cute little trysts…

Getaway was very eager to get into the Prime’s berth, he almost melted out of his plating when he was called in. He’s heard the stories, he knew Optimus takes willing partners to his habsuite every once in a while, and this time it’s him! Oh, the disappointment that floods him when Optimus slumps on top of him after a few minutes of thrusting, panting as his spike softens after his overload. I mean, this was for Optimus. He needed to burn off charge and Getaway was like a lost puppy, needing acknowledgement from the Prime he worships… so he gets to worship him, yes.

The disappointment is crushing. Getaway is kicked out of the room, not rudely, but firmly enough that he definitely couldn’t have said anything to change the Prime’s mind… he feels cheap and cheated. It takes him a few days to recover enough to get the tears out of his optics while talking about it. But everyone thinks Getaway is an idiot for thinking the Prime was gonna be gentle and lovey-dovey with him. Talk about parasocial, oof.

That’s one hell of a grudge against the Prime on Getaway’s side, I bet.

[sheeluvsme]

John Soap mactavish headcannons !

LETTS GET READY TO RUMBLEEE!! Hi everyone! I saw how everyone really liked my last post about price and Valeria !!! So i figured I’ll do our boy soap next :))!! Who should I write about next? I was thinking könig…lmk!!

CW// This is SFW and NSFW!! there will be female anatomy used Lightly, also NOT proof read LMAOO , ANGST! ( warning nurse! Reader, brief death) semi public stuff? Just let me know if I missed anything!!

When you first met soap , you really thought he was WEIRD AS SHIT

He like completely puzzled you with his jokes 😭

You two met at a pub!! He had claimed to think your face was familiar and you told him you worked for army medical. You were a army nurse ! That’s when it clicked in his tiny little brain, because lord knows he’s been to medical lotssss of times.

The first thing that pulled him in was your laugh. When you finally started laughing at his stupid jokes he couldn’t help but smile like a teen boy.

Soap is also good to you! He i a sweetheart and lovessss taking you wherever you want to go, he mostly likes going shopping with your for two very important reasons 1. To make sure no one fucks with you 2. So he can get his favorite candy.

He actually likes watching you shop and be in your own little world! He thinks it’s cute because when he’s focused he does the same thing.

He knows you have anxiety about alottttt of things and he is right there for you! He knows public places scare you because of germs and also just some many loud people

He finds it funny your so loud and assistive at your place of work but as soon as you hit the public you turn into a shy little thing and he adores it!

Especially when you don’t want to bother people, your sitting there with your cart … waiting for this one person to move… and he’s like “ what you waitin’ for lass?” And you jester to the person in-front of you. He can’t help but smile and shake his head at you “ excuse meh’ ! We gotta get by you” he louder then he should of announced 😭

Soap always says the most random funny shit to you, he knows you have quite a gruesome sad job sometimes , so coming back home with him and his humor really helps!!

One day you absolutely came home in tears , you were shattered, your heart felt so so sore. He couldn’t help but immediately sore to you hold you. “ aye aye ..sweetheart what’s wrong-?! Did someone hurt you? Is it your boss again because I swea-“ you just shake your head no. You quietly explain to him through your tears a kid died on you. There was nothing you could really do but make them comfortable but you couldn’t help but feel sorrow. Because you definitely wanted kids with soap. So this scared you. He just holds you so tightly stroking your hair. “ it’s ok sweetheart. You did your absolute best. It’s ok..”

He always know how to exactly get you feeling better. Even if your sick ! You yell at him to stay away from you because you’re sick and have gross germs!! But he literally couldn’t care he picks you up anyways kissing you and hugging you!

He wasn’t very educated on periods at first but you definitely taught him , maybe a little too graphic because after he hugged you and told you how lucky he is to have a dick LMAOO

On your period he like genuinely calls it ‘ Shark week! ‘

He’s the type to say , when you ask him to grab you pads and says ‘ what size pussy you got ‘ PLSPSLLSL

You catch this man listening to the lady Gaga or Katie Perry 100% AND YOU KNOW WHAT HE LITERALLY HAS NO SHAME

He thinks your just the prettiest thing wearing his shirts !! Makes him secretly go nuts

He admires you a lot , the way you have to be up at ASS O’CLOCK in the morning for work and you still make him lunch or morning coffee???? He wants to be YOU when he grows up LMAOO

NSFW

He also like price has a primal urge to make you his baby momma LMAOO

He loves telling you that during sex “ yeah? Like that? You like when I’m deep inside you hm? Gonna’ getcha’ fucking pregnant with my kid.”

He is a MAJOR bitter

He loves biting you everywhere and leaving his marks on you. It’s his favorite thing getting up after you watching you slip on your scrubs and try and cover your neck bites with makeup. He can’t help but cheekily smile

He is also a MAJOR pussy eater , loveessss eating you like a starved man , especially overstimulation.

He will eat you over and over and over till your literally sobbing and saying you can’t anymore ( he of course respects your request)

He is BIGGGG on in public stuff ‼️‼️

Like if your out for a nice dinner you can’t help but send a glare his way as his hand creeps up your thigh. “ what do you think your doing?” You playfully smack his hand away. “ what dose it look like I’m doing hm?” He whispers. “ it looks like your focused on the wrong food.” You keep yourself together as you sip your wine. “ I’m a man who likes his dessert before his dinner what can I say?” You choke on your wine.

DONT even get me started when your out clubbing together going to a pub with a few of 141 to have a good time , you yourself are having too much of a good time. Your buzzed , warm , and feeling damn good, your make up worked out perfectly and your clothes fit you JUST right.

Soap leaves his eyes off you for one minute and he sees gaz and price chuckling as they point to you , clearly having the time of your life in the crowded dance floor , soap is chuckling too until he notices a guy gawking you and obviously too close for his comfort. Your oblivious to what’s happening honestly there’s so many people smooshed together, your too focused on dancing.

He quickly sets down his drink squeezing through people, quickly apologizing. He grabs your waist quickly pulling you close before looking back at the guy that was very close to touching what’s his. Soap quickly says “ step off. She’s with me.” You quickly turn around to see your beautiful boyfriend and smile “ Johnny!! I was wondering when you’d come out here and show off your sweet dance moves!” Obviously teasing him. Because his ass can not dance 😭

Soap hears you and smiles but he’s quietly brewing. Suddenly he’s dragging you to the clubs bathroom. Thank god it’s a single use. “ wha- cmon was my dancing that embarrassing?” You tease him wondering what the hell is happening. “ no love. Not that. Just..” her huffs grabbing you pulling you close. “ people keep ogling’ whats mine. I don’t take very kindly to it.” Your cheeks heat up. You’ve never seen him like this but your not complaining. You didn’t even notice people looking at you. “ well I promise I’m all yours Johnny..” he quickly sticks his lips to yours. Hungrily kissing you , licking into you. “ soap- every one else is gonna-“ he quickly cuts you off. “ let them. I’m having you right now whether they like it or not.”

Soap seems more dominant but he is half and half sometimes he just needs to be your good boy ‼️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️

He absolutely LOVESSSSS when you top him or sit on his face. If he’s tired but still really wants you THATS when he turns into putty in your hands.

He fucking loves when you pull on his Mohawk ‼️ he can’t help but whimper and god damn is so beautiful.

BIG ON PRAISE let that poor boy know he’s doing good!!! Degrading him just makes him feel competitive, then the tables will turn..

He loves begging you to let him cum in you , “ please- please let me cum in you. Fucking hell!- haa- please please. I want you to feel good-“ of course with him you obviously CANT say no!!

He’s also pretty good with after care, he likes taking baths with you because soap does enjoy a good bubble bath!!

Next morning you wake up late because it’s your day off, he’s gone for work already but you smell something? You walk into the kitchen and he made you breakfast and coffee with a small note. “ gotta take care of my girl after she takes care of me , I love ya ! -your secret admirer” and ofc he spells like half of that wrong but its ok because you do indeed love your boyfriend!

Thank you for reading!!! Hope you enjoyed <33

[the-words-we-sung]

Thoughts and pictures - S3E5

And we're getting into the hard episodes...

This first scene is sad and terrible. The shot of the broken glasses and pink condom, the background so dirty and creepy... And my poor Wilhelm trying to deal with this new knowledge about his brother...

"You could say that W's lack of communication became rhetorical. [...] Was it a conscious strategy by W? [...] Maybe he was just in the wrong place, and chance decided his place in world history." -> So I have no idea what Valter and Henry are talking about but it's interesting that they say that just after the scene with Wilhelm and Erik's "words" during the awful initiation. Was Erik in the wrong place at the wrong time? (Also lack of communication: the big issue of Wilmon this season...)

Sara being immediately so suspicious when she comes back home to see Micke all happy and energetic. But also her little hopeful smile when he tells her she can drive him to the test to calm her nerves 😞

His mother is "trying to keep all of that" from him? Really? While his father keeps telling him he needs to be ready to take over? Ludwig sucks. And again telling Wille how perfect Erik was, that he didn't have this "darkness inside of him". Can't he ever have a real conversation with his son? Annnnd hanging up right when Wille was asking about Erik. I am so heartbroken for him 😟

I hate this scene >< Wilhelm is so mean to Simon. He lashes at him immediately. Simon doesn't even have time to answer anything and Wille is already accusing him of judging Erik. I know he's angry and hurt and lost but I hate how mean he can be in these situations...

I think it's really the moment that I realized how hard it was starting to be for me to believe in them as a couple. They can't communicate. Wilhelm is so hurt and lashes out at Simon as a result. And I've seen a lot of people saying how it was between Simon and Crown Prince Wilhelm that the communication was off and impossible, not between Simon and Wille, but I disagree with that: Wilhelm here is not the Crown Prince, he's a grieving teenager who's brother's perfect image just got shattered to pieces. And they still can't manage to talk.

Sara waiting for Micke to pick her up... Another heartbreak ><

Why is Wilhelm convinced that Simon was judging Erik?? He really didn't. And please please please, can't you just go back to your therapy sessions with Boris? You so badly need them Wille :/

"It fits you perfectly." In which universe did this blazer fit him perfectly Linda? xD Why did they choose something so big?

Sara breaking down... I had hoped for maybe a bit more, like an honest conversation between her and Simon before he forgave her, but the scene was still cute.

Wilhelm wearing a simple black jumper: yes please. He looks so good.

And another cute scene between them to make us forget how fucked up their relationship is right now... ^^'

And see? Wilhelm can decide some things and have his voice heard. He did well during his birthday ceremony thingy but then put his foot down and refused to have August come to his birthday dinner. He didn't yell, was very calm and assertive, and Farima said okay. The idea that he would be completely stuck behind a script to follow as Crown Prince (and then King) is absurd to me. He has a voice. He can actually makes things happen/change. (Yes I will die on this hill 😆)

(Okay the girls are just so cute in their little uniforms 🥰)

Cuties being friendly again !!

Gosh the difference between how lively the dinner at school is compared to the stiffness and silence of the birthday dinner >< And Kristina, girl, wtf are you doing... I know you're still trying to deal with Erik's death but was it really necessary to bring up how perfect he was during your other son's birthday >< Can't you be there for him? Can't you try harder to help him? To just be his mother when it's his birthday and he's officially introducing his boyfriend to you? 😩

I don't hate this scene between August and Sara. I appreciate the development and to see where they both are at that moment. Also this shot is very pretty!

And another bad scene between Wilhelm and Simon... Why does Wille keep being so mean? Again I know he's hurting so much but fuck. Why can't they actually talk to each other? Well, why can't Wille actually talk to Simon?

This scene between Wilhelm and his parents was so fucking important. So fucking needed. I'm just sad that it happened so late in the season. And that it didn't really change anything.

What can I say about this last scene? Edvin and Omar are incredibly good actors, their tear-streaked faces are heartbreaking. Simon breaking up with him was expected I guess at this point. It was really getting hard to believe in their relationship... But what a terrible moment to do it! I wanted something cute out of a scene when they're both in pajamas and sweatpants in Wille's bed 😩

So it is "easier" to watch these episodes now that I know exactly what's gonna happen, but it doesn't really make me like them more >< This episode was probably the first one that made me dislike Wilmon as a couple. And it's not a fun thing to realize ><

I'll try to wrap up this rewatch tomorrow with the last episode! (And I'm already trying to think about how I will deal with rewatching the whole show in the future, because this season is not giving me the happy happy butterflies that the 2 first did ><)

[sarilolla]

Really love your Hanahaki Branch au! Quick question, does the Hanahaki have a role in anything during the world tour? Cuz I feel like that garner a lot more sympathy from the Country trolls to prevent them from throwing the group in jail. And maybe the Bounty Hunters. Hickory for sure.

I know there’s that potion Branch could take but does he have to willingly take it for it to work? Ik the Snack Pack and Kismet would never betray Branch’s trust like that but if someone were to dose Branch without his knowledge, who would it be and what would the aftermath look like?

Thank you! It's so fun that so many are enjoying my work, and I love answering questions, so here you go!

The Hanahaki will have a bit stronger role in World Tour, mainly because it has gone a bit of time, and also since they're looking for more Trolls, isn't there a possibility to find his brothers too? The more he thinks about his brothers, the stronger the Hanahaki will be. (Imagine how fucked it will be when he's actually with them-)

Don't want to say too much, but yeah, it will garner sympathy. Hanahaki is a rare disease, but Trolls know more about it. Branch will try to hide his illness (being stubborn), but when it is noticed, there is sympathy. I'm also going to be just a tad bit delusional about the Country scene because it frustrates me to high heavens and I just... don't want to write that. So the Hanahaki will play a part in it, yeah. Bounty hunters also figure out and worry for him when they meet him. Hickory especially (I like Hickory)

Now for the potion, it is true it can be taken unwillingly, but I don't think that would be a Troll thing to do. Trolls seem like very caring (and forgiving) creatures, so forcing someone to forget about someone is just too cruel to do. They can persuade him, but the decision is his and no one else's. The potion is supposed to be a last resort, when there's no other hope of survival

Now if he was forced to drink the potion... I genuinely don't know who it would be. The only version I can imagine (and sorry to V&V fans), would be if Branch was taken by Velvet and Veneer instead of Floyd, and they knew about what the Perfect Family Harmony could do (shatter diamonds). They still had Branch as bait for the brothers to come (because they will always come, no matter who was taken), but Branch doesn't remember them, so will he join the song? They're banking on him not doing it. Maybe the Perfect Family Harmony returns his memories, if he can be persuaded to join. Maybe he's doomed, and so are the brothers also inside the diamonds, the Family Harmony never completed without the youngest

As for the effects of the potion... it's bad. The potion doesn't take away the flowers kindly in any shape or form. It burns them away, and with it, burns the memories or feelings of the person the flower is for. It hurts, badly, worse with a forced ingestion. It would take of his energy even faster. At least if he took it willingly, it would be in the safety of his village with doctors, friends/found family, and a loving girlfriend to heal. In the V&V scenario (because that's the only way I can imagine he would be forced by someone else), he has nothing like that, including the stealing of his talent/essence... Yeah, he's fucked

Mildly insane about this au, so...

Thanks for the ask ^^

[hexedwinchester]

Supernatural S04E04 Metamorphosis

Disclaimer: this is a Dean critical post so if you are a Dean girl, please proceed with caution or keep scrolling..

I love Ruby's snark

You know that funky white shirt with red block print kinda design that Sam wears in this episode? Last week when I was doing Sam's wardrobe poll, someone described this as a white shirt with red design that kinda looks it's inside out. I always thought they said that because the print color is kinda dull but no. I just noticed that the print on Sam's rolled up sleeve cuff is literally darker than the print on the rest of the shirt. So i guess.. it is kinda like inside out thing

you knew this was coming but I hate Dean here. He doesn't give Sam a chance to explain.. his first move is to punch him in the jaw. Twice! Notice how Sam doesn't fight back. While I know Dean means well and he is trying to "save Sam" from going dark, but buddy, you didn't have to punch Sam. See Sam is a reasonable guy. Ruby didn't get through by throwing punches. She literally showed Sam the silver lining of using his powers. Dean could have talked his brother out of this but no, he had to turn this into 'Me or Ruby'. So ya, Fuck off Dean!

so after punching Sam twice.. guess what he does next... Throws furniture around.. see what I mean when I say Dean's love Language is physical violence

Dean to Sam: if I didn't know you, I'd wanna hunt you. Fuck off Dean! And take your hypocrisy along with you (because you were all paly pals with Benny)

oh so now you suddenly believe Cas?? Like two episodes ago you couldn't have faith that angels existed and now you believe him??

when Dean tells Sam that God doesn't want him to doing this.. you can see him shatter.. like he is so heartbroken that for once he was trying to turn his powers and use them for good and that's still not good enough. The way he answers his call, digging fingers into his eyes, trying to hold back a sob

Cathryn Humphris.. I don't recall exactly how many episodes she wrote for Supernatural but so far after BUABS and this one.. it seems like she does well on Dark Sam themes

Dean's first thought at young Mary: Mom's a babe

Sam's first thought at young Mary: was she happy? This right here is why I love Sam more

I also don't see why Sam needed to indulge Dean about YED bleeding in his mouth. Kinda glad he doesn't for a while. He knew Dean wouldn't take it well and he didn't.. probably just looks at him like he was evil or something

Jack chomping on raw meat, blood and bits dripping down his chin, completely uncivilized.. that's the kinda gore I miss in later seasons

Dean's passive aggressiveness is just as annoying as his actual aggressiveness

i like Jack for intents and purposes

Dean to Sam: nice dude but he's got evil inside of him. Something in his blood, maybe you can relate. Really Dean??? Wtf?!

Name and address of people responsible for Sam's hair in this episode!!! He looks so damn good!!!

finally an apology from Dean.. thank you very much

You see what I mean when I say Sam's a reasonable guy.. towards the end of the episode he does say that he won't use his powers

[wonderpommey]

Dude, I was gutted by the scripts when they came out, but now?

It would have been fun (and by fun I mean Jesse's tragic definition of fun) to see Roman and Tabitha try and fail to have normal patriarchal sex, Roman supposedly being on a high for managing it and instead of pursuing the possibility of a fully acceptable daddy-approved relationship, immediately running to Gerri to tell her that he was a real man now who could put it in and he didn't need to be banished to the bathroom anymore - if she even cares. efff-why-ai, looking at her "standing to attention, ready to go at it hard". The 2 levels of that scene were brilliant actually. And absolutely losing his mind when she doesn't respect his "potency", doesn't respect him on top. Doesn't actually believe he can do it the way his dad used to.

His dad didn't do all this out of emotion, he did it out of cold business calculations (apart from maybe possibly the last thing he did. getting Roman to kill the woman he loved- Roman knows that it's in his rehearsed speech in episode 9). Of course for Roman, PIV Logan fucking is hurting, destroying, taking women's agency away and he can't do that without hurting himself deeply. And of course he only manages the middle bit/the firing. No successful foreplay/completion anywhere. Even less pleasure in doing things because "maybe dad knew". What tragic phrasing. The inference being that Roman doesn't know. That he always gets it wrong, he has the wrong instincts, the wrong feelings, the wrong desires and even when he tries to be dad's guy at great cost to himself, it's not working.

There was also a strong connection between Living +, the perfect AC homes of fake life while the world burns and Roman entering his own Living+ facility of nightmarish daddy-approved normo life, having fake Logan whisper in his ear all day what his superego is shouting at him at this point that "he always gets it wrong". The normal outside vs an internal life in uproar and turmoil, heading towards destruction.

And 12 hours later, acting as if the Tabitha interlude never even happened, starting to stalk Gerri and Martyn, and does Martyn shower at the gym? and has anyone seen him naked? and how big is this fucking guy? Desperately trying to tell Gerri he'll go back to jerking off in cupboards, go back to his "hang-ups and act-outs", if that's what she wants. The double entendre of "she could've gotten him there" taking on an even more obvious dimension. Roman visibly dying inside when Gerri leaves and he tries to hurt Connor, who has the sense to listen to his woman, screaming at himself really that "nothing's gonna happen", and going on to shatter democracy because "nothing ever happens" and he never gets the steak that he wants. And Gerri offering him a "funeral freebie", but Roman not being to handle the fear and the lust. Needing to be punished for having all those emotions in the first place but also for not respecting those emotions, destroying his relationship with the love of his life, "the one person who was maybe closer to him than Logan was".

The way Logan was so deep inside his psyche this season, but Roman was absolutely bursting in there.

Thinking Logan wanted him to be able to put it in normo style, but Roman only caring about Gerri knowing that,

Thinking Logan wanted him to make hardball deals/fire people but Roman only doing those things out of pure anger, pain, ego.

Thinking that showing your emotions/scars to the people you love is a weakness when the only times Gerri aches for him are the times she sees him crumble "You're not your dad" and that's why she had chosen him.

Being made unable to accept the touch of love, the held out hand of wokeness - even though he'd die for those things to be real. The idea these things were real and obtainable and he fucked it - how unbearable as a concept

I'm left puzzled as to why they thought Ken or Shiv's stories were more compelling/important. I get they were the most realistic. Roman's was dramatised a lot, his dad telling him "be this", ordering Gerri's killing, the voicemail seconds before his death. But it makes it the most dramatic/tragic imo... And yes all these things were visible as things were but they could've made them even more so.

[sentfromwolves]

break and/monster for anyone from HBABL!! >:)

YES YES YES >:3 LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO

I'm going to do this for Judge and throw a curveball and do it for Desmond too!!! hehehehehe

　◢ QUESTIONS *

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest? monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

❖ 》　JUDGE ; break ➡

This is so hard to do for Judge HMMMM I think first of all a full break down for Judge is really silent. It can look like he's going catatonic, like you just can't reach him anywhere, he's gone somewhere inside of himself that's too far away for anyone to connect with anymore. All you can do at that point is just sit with him. He's not loud or violent or angry at this kind of lowest of lows. He's just silent and defeated in such an overwhelming way that he completely shuts down. I think in so far as what would cause him to break down completely might be something in the vein of feeling like he's done everything in his power to accomplish something or help someone, and it all amounts to nothing at the end of the day. If he tried so hard to reach someone and save them, or if he tried so hard to be there for someone only to have it amount to absolutely nothing in the end because he gave too much of himself over to them and all they did was take and take and then walk away, it would devastate him. Demon though he is, this man is a recovering people-pleaser, and he has always had a bad habit of giving too much of himself to others and finding himself distraught and alone when they leave him once he feels he has nothing left to give.

❖ 》　JUDGE ; monster ➡

Yeah, Judge is monstrous. He's vicious, destructive, violent, and he will bite. Like a dog that's been beaten all his life, all he really knows now is violence and survival, and while he'll dress himself up as the charismatic demon archetype, when he's pushed into a corner, he'll do anything to get out of it, no matter what it looks like to someone else. The thing about his monstrosity is that it's a product and result of his trauma. It's something that he had to evoke in order to survive, and he carries a huge amount of trauma, shame, and self-loathing around it. Does anyone remember that quote from that one movie haha, where it's a dog saying "I don't know why I bite." That's Judge sometimes, he's just been in a reactive state to the harsh realities of his living situations and experiences for so long that he needs to externalize in ways that can be seen as utterly unhinged and feral to others, but it all roots so deeply inside of his trauma, and he knows deep down he doesn't want to continue living this way forever.

❖ 》　DESMOND ; break ➡

The permanent loss of his brother would undo Desmond completely. He's kind of gaslit himself into thinking that he hates Aleksander to the point of wanting to just Be Better Than Him At Literally Everything, and also wishing with desperate, reckless abandon that Aleksander would just fucking die and stay dead so that Desmond wouldn't ever have to confront the actually incredibly fucked up, complex feelings of guilt, shame, obsessive love, and devotion he has for his older brother. Because he's so desperate to think he can claw these emotions out of his chest, he truly does think that Aleksander permanently dying would be ideal, but if this turned into a reality and Desmond actually did lose his brother, he would shatter entirely. It would be like a dog chasing a car down the highway, sure that catching it would bring them joy, only to be left crippled and destroyed upon collision. That's what would happen to him, he'd be distraught beyond belief. It would ruin him. No one has ever seen him at his true lowest, because Desmond keeps his cards and true self so close to his chest. The only person that has ever come close has in fact been Aleksander, but because Desmond spites him so much, it led to fights and altercations every time. Aleksander has no power to help his brother out of these low points because Desmond would sooner bite off his own arm than reach out and take hold of Aleksander's outstretched hand.

❖ 》　DESMOND ; monster ➡

Oh yeah, Desmond is monstrous. He is a deeply flawed individual, and despite his calm, poised exterior and manipulative tactics, he's constantly and obsessively driven by obsession and envy. Both of these emotions are rooted deeply in his complicated history with his older brother, Aleksander, who has always made Desmond feel like a gnat in the shadow of a giant, constantly working tirelessly just to break free from the looming dark. Desmond wants to kill his brother just as surely as he wants to be recognized by him, and fantasizes about gaining that recognition by killing Aleksander in several different ways. Yes, sometimes these fantasies leave him feeling disgusted, but he continues to obsess over them too. He performs most monstrously whenever it comes to matters regarding Aleksander, but he is also just a despicable man with a lot of power and personal issues. While the core of all of this obsessive love and envy and shame roots deeply in a traumatic moment in his childhood where he inadvertently was responsible for the death of his baby sister and parents, and blamed for it at the time by Aleksander, it doesn't excuse the extent to which he goes to just be a horrendously awful person in his adult life. This guy straight up needs therapy.

◆ ◆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ◆ ◆

✨Come ask me unsavory questions about my ocs! ( •̀ ω •́ )y✨bonus points if you want to throw them out for the PITS cast, the Berserker crew (Avarice, Josefine, Kai-Ren, Roach, Luka, Haru, etc), or the developing death wip hehe

[purplesimme]

For the drabble prompts, nro 20? :)

20. "Soon, it will all be over."

Read it on AO3

It hasn't been Wille's week- homework, his mom, princely duties, all of them have been particularly bad the past couple of days. And right now the last thing he wants to do is deal with people, at all.

So he makes up an excuse and grabs his plate of food and heads back to his room to eat in his bed, with only silence and peace keeping him company.

He's not even halfway through his dish when he leans over to grab his phone and the plate promptly falls off his lap, shattering in a million pieces.

Wille being clumsy is a light way to put it.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," he says, mostly to himself because there's no one else around, as he looks at all the glass and the now uneatable food spread all over the floor. "I am so hungry, I swear to God."

Wille just sits there, completely done with the day. So he thinks of the only thing that always helps him feel better: he texts Simon to come over. Unsurprisingly, Simon answers quickly, saying he'll be here in half an hour.

So Wille, with newfound motivation (aka seeing Simon), begins to clean up the mess before Simon gets here.

Simon is barely a step inside the room before Wille is grabbing him by the face and smooching him. "Hi."

Simon smiles big like the moon. "Hi. Shitty day?"

Wille rolls his eyes as he moves to sit on the bed. "More like shitty week."

Simon follows him and sits next to him. "Wanna talk about it?" He moves a strand of Wille's hair behind his ear.

"Nah, more of the same, just a bit more intense than usual. I just wanted to see you," Wille tells him, then rests his head on Simon's shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'm good," Simon replies, kissing his hair before lying his head on top of Wille's.

After a couple minutes of silence Simon tears himself away to get rid of his shoes, and that's when Wille remembers.

"Wait!"

Simon stops halfway through untying his sneakers. "What is it?"

Wille gets up, inspecting the floor again. "I dropped a full plate of food and I tried my best but I'm not the best at cleaning. There might be glass lying around."

Simon giggles, not surprised, and looks at the floor too, eventually concluding, "It's fine. I don't see anything."

So Simon takes off his shoes, Wille looking at him, still worried, and stands up. And promptly steps on a piece of glass. "Fuck," he says as he sits back down and check the sole of his foot. "Shit."

"I told you!" Wille almost screams at him. He kneels down on the floor next to Simon to get a look at the injury. "Fuck, are you okay? Does it hurt?"

"Doesn't hurt, I don't think?" Simon says, trying to analyze the situation. "Can definitely feel it, though."

They both look at the glass impaled on Simon's foot. It's a pretty big piece, and Wille is appalled as to why neither of them saw it before, but it's not that deep, so it should be easy to grab and pull it out.

"Okay, " Wille takes the initiative, staring at the insulting piece of glass. "I'm taking it out, are you ready?"

Simon starts laughing. "Yes? It's fine, Wille..."

Wille ignores him, rolling his sleeves up, ready to fix this situation. He feels a little bit guilty. He reaches out with two fingers towards the glass. "Soon, it will all be over," Wille tells Simon.

"Uh, I mean, yeah, it's just glass. It's not that dramatic," Simon tells him, amused at the concentrated look on Wille's face.

Wille looks up at him, laughing. "I know. I heard it on a movie and I've been waiting for the right time to say it."

Simon laughs too. "Okay, can you pull it out? It's starting to feel weird."

So Wille grabs it and quickly pulls it out without much difficulty. Wille holds it up for both of them to see. "The evil has been defeated. Do you need a band-aid?"

"Nope." Simon grins. "You're my savior," he tells Wille, such love on his eyes Wille gets butterflies.

"I mean, I don't mind," Wille tells him. "But next time, maybe let's not get actually injured? I did really worry for a second there," he confesses.

Simon grabs him by the chin and leans foward to kiss him. "I agree. But nothing happened, we're fine." Simon kisses him again, reassuring him.

"Do you want to take a nap?" Wille asks him. "I would love a nap."

"Yes," Simon agrees. "This was all very stressful."

Wille scoffs. "Now you're just making fun of me."

Simon laughs, not helping his case. "I'm not! I think napping is a great idea."

"Fine," Wille says, getting up and pushing Simon on his back on the bed. "This is gonna be the best nap ever."

Simon giggles as Wille gets in bed next to him, and they cuddle close and tight until they fall asleep.

[bokuroskitten]

kitty stop it with switch mitsuya. now. i can’t handle that manwhore.

me either, so take this. my paperwork took a lot longer than expected, my apologizes JHGHSDGY @tokyomanjihoe this is for you too baby <33

warnings: switch manwhore mitsuya LMFAO, guided se*ual acts, overstim & edging, use of a strap on, man is such a whore and just wants to fuck and be fucked all the time.

Switch!Mitsuya who could be doing literally anything and will drop it the second you ask him to do just about anything. You've honestly looked into the freakiest shit just to get his reaction, see what his limitations are-- but he doesn't have any. He'll simply look at you and nod, standing up from whatever he's doing and bonding it all together. "Sure pretty, let's try that right now." Switch!Mitsuya who guides you through the process of getting him worked up. He wants you to feel empowered and he wants to feel good so why not give you a hand and tell you all his sweet spots? "This spot on my neck baby, yea right there, suck on that-- good." "Harder baby, cmon I need it harder than that."

Switch!Mitsuya who keeps a smug smirk on his face when he notices your resolve start to shatter. You're looking at him a bit wide-eyed and dazed despite him being the one being literally slutted out and yet he's always asking for more. Man could have quivering thighs and raging heartbeat, cock swollen and endlessly leaky and yet he's asking for more in a gruff voice. "Done already princess? Bummer, coulda gone for another round"

Switch!Mitsuya who needs to be edged and overstimulated, he wants to be completely fucked out of his mind. Tells you to squeeze at the base of his cock to stop him from cumming but also has you suck him off right after you've given him two hand jobs because his balls aren't completely empty yet. The sticky, dry cum on his heavy chest isn't enough. His vision needs to start blacking out before the two of you can finish, body trembling so bad it'll start to go limp.

Switch!Mitsuya who is so fucking vocal cause he knows it only makes you all the flustered and turned on. Along with guiding you through a lot of the tasks his groans and moans echo in the house. He's shameless with it, head tilted back and lips hung wide when it really starts to feel good. his mumbles build-up to quivering whimpers when you manage to bring him to yet another orgasm, whole body shuddering as a dreamy sigh leaves his lips. "A-Again- fuck, again please b-baby--"

Switch!Mitsuya who cries so pretty when he's getting pushed to his limit. His thick lashes start to clump together and his eyes get a little bloodshot. When his whimpers start to shake his chest you slow down, only for his pupils to dilate and him to stare at you wide-eyed. Suddenly his cock seems to be jolting back to life as he speaks. "M-More pretty-- fuck, need more please, don't stop don't stop--"

Switch!Mitsuya who loves it when you actually manage to surprise him. When you squeeze his balls when he's being a little too confident, when you're getting a little sick of his condescending instruction and decide to gag him, when you're giving him the strap and manage to hit a spot inside him that makes him see stars. He's always a little taken back, body tensing and eyes widening. But that shock quickly turns to pleasure, eyes becoming dilated and dick twitching so hard that little sprits of pre always start to bubble from his abused slit. The more you surprise him, the more your dominance starts to work its way out, the more turned on he seems to get.

Switch!Mitsuya who really could go for endless rounds because his stamina and freakiness are off the charts. Man wants it all, basically in a constant state of horny and is ready to act on it. Eventually gives in when he really starts to see you wear out. He could be panting, covered in cum, eyes fluttering back open from being squeezed shut and he'll still crawl his way between your thighs, shaky palms angling his purplish mushroom head towards your entrance. Your whines are silenced with his lips, or he just ignores them with the toothy grin "M'gunna take it from here, good job precious~"

[charliedawn]

can i request to hc's for the slashers with a male reader, where the reader and the slasher have sex but the next day the reader acts indifferent to it and tells the slasher that they are just fuck mates? (if possible some hc from the reader apologizing after realizing he hurt the slasher, and then he asks him out on a date)(sorry if this is confusing💀 english is not my first language)

Warning : ANGST

Penny spent centuries without any sexual relief. He doesn't need it. He did it for you. He did it because he thought you felt the same thing he did..But, then you had to shatter whatever little hope he had. You tried to apologise, but he growled warningly at you. His smile vanished and it worried you as his eyes seemed lifeless, his smile not lighting up the room. In a snap, he was back in his clothes and wordlessly went for the door. You grabbed his hand and asked, unsure.

"Are you..mad at me ? Come on, Penny..We had fun, right ?"

"Don't touch me.."

His reply was so sharp, you felt it cut your heart deeply and you obeyed. He sighed loudly and finally giggled maniacally.

"I should have warned you…You have high chances of becoming pregnant. I did it once and it only took one time to have a child. But, I thought it wouldn’t matter. I thought…"

Your eyes widened at the news..Wait..WHAT ?!

"Penny..It’s impossible. We only did it once. Plus, I’m a man.."

He let out a small humourless laugh before turning around with an insane twinkle in the eyes.

"We are not restricted by such rules..That’s what you get for playing with bigger than you without thinking of the consequences, Y/N.. What ? You thought I was a normal one ? You thought you could get away with everything..You tempted me, you wanted to play and then, you dare complain about not knowing all the rules ? Silly human..Poor insignificant little human who wanted to have his fun..?"

Penny giggled again when he suddenly turned around with blood running down his cheeks and chin.

"Fun…Yessss. FUNFUNFUNFUNFUN ! Ahahahahahahaha ! So, is it still as fun as you thought it would be, Y/N ?"

He scared you and you backed away as far as you could as his face melted completely, replaced by his white porcelain complexion and bright orange eyes.

"You made a fool out of me.."

"It wasn’t my intention !"

You protested, but Penny was having none of it as he suddenly took you by the throat and raised you in the air.

"You had your fun..My turn."

"F..F*ck buddies ? You really thought..Me. The clown with a deepest hatred for being touched..Would let you f*ck me just for the fun of it ? Is that..Is that really what you thought ?"

As long as you've known Pennywise..You've never heard him sound so hurt.

Pennywise wasn't expecting it..He thought you were feeling the same, this is why he accepted to do it with you in the first place..He would have never allowed you to touch him if he had known it was only a game to you, a one night thing.

To let you near him and actually put your hands on him must have taken a lot out of him and he would be so upset to hear this from you.

"Sh*t..I..I should have known. I really hope you had fun. Yeah. The fun of your life.."

He mocked and you felt bad for him. You didn't think it would be such a big deal ? It's not like it was his first time...Right ? Your eyes widened at the realization..Sh*t.

"Wait...Was that..?"

He addressed you the most murderous glare he could muster and gathered the little restrain he had left to point the door.

"Don't say it. Just...Don't. Get out."

You tried to hold his hand and apologise, but he turned around swiftly and roared.

"I SAID GET OUT !"

He then used his powers to push you out of the room and lock the door behind you.

"Pennywise ! Let me in ! I didn’t mean..I didn't know !"

"That’s always the problem with you humans, isn’t it ?! You don’t know..You never do !", he replied from the inside of the room and he sounded so angry as you heard things break and being smashed to the floor. Pennywise was usually so chill and you genuinely didn’t think it would get such a rise out of him..You fucked up.

"So..You used me to get your kicks off ?"

He was upset to say the least, but the true hint that he was hurt was that he had never actually used words with you before..

"M..Michael..I..!"

He slammed his fist against the wall behind you and the words stayed stuck inside your throat..He had never been so angry with you before. His eyes were wide open and he laughed..He laughed, but it almost sounded like he was trying to hold back his tears. He then yelled.

"SAY IT !"

You didn't think it was a big deal..You didn't think it would result in such a rise out of him, but here he was. He was fuming and your bottom lip trembled. You didn't mean to hurt him..It was just..

"I just wanted to have some fun.."

He scoffed before pouring himself a drink. He then gulped it down before turning towards you with half a smile.

"See ? Wasn't so hard ? You wanted to use me..See how it felt, huh ? So, how was I ? Did you have fun ? Was I "up to your standards" ?"

Well...He was kinda good. But, you couldn't really tell him that now, could you ? You lowered your gaze in shame instead and he scoffed again.

"Yeah..That's what I thought.."

He huffed mockingly before walking away. For once, he wanted Michael Myers to get out and tear you to shreds..But, he knew he wouldn’t. Michael Myers only came after the ones he loved…And, whatever hope he had of loving you and being loved in return ? You had shattered everything in one night..He felt stupid for ever trusting you. He felt even worse when he realised he hadn’t even asked what you felt for him beforehand. He had been so stupid..He didn’t even notice the knife in his hand until he heard Myers whisper in his ear.

"Kill them..They deserve it.."

He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, Michael wasn’t in control anymore. Myers got out his mask and tightened his hold on the knife.

Let’s hope this one will last a little longer, huh Michael ?

"Yeah..Totally fine."

He said after you admitted you just wanted to have a one-night stand..He was expecting it. He already had more than his fair share of those..but, it still hurt when you told him. He didn't think it would hurt so much.

"What ? Why the grumpy face ? Wasn't that what you wanted ?"

He gripped the edge of the bed and gritted his teeth..Yeah..That's what he wanted..Everything he f*cking wanted. He closed his eyes and forced himself to grin again before turning towards you and grabbing your jaw and giving you a searing kiss.

"How about we go for a second round, huh handsome?"

"W..Wh—?"

He kissed you again..He didn't want to hear it. He knew what you would say..He knew. But, he preferred to have this than nothing at all. He was a fool to even consider the possibility and raised his hand under your shirt. He was going to enjoy this..Yeah. And, you weren't going to complain..You wanted this and for now, it was enough for him. He would ignore the pain..

"Mom was right..This world is filled with impure whores..I just had to fall for one."

Norman felt tears forming in his eyes and gritted his teeth in frustration. He thought this would be good..That you would be the one to actually help him and love him..He shook his head. He was a murderer. A crazy man with even crazier dreams..You felt his disappointment and tried to apologize, but he raised his hand to stop you and glared coldly at you.

"Don't..It's better if you left now. You got what you were looking for.."

He quickly got dressed before leaving the room. You quickly followed him, but the time you got to him, someone else had replaced him..

Mrs Bates *smiles creepily at you* : "I let you be a part of my perfect son's life..And what did you do ? You hurt him..Oh oh..I'm going to enjoy killing you.."

She then showed you what she was hiding behind her back..A knife. She then let out a powerful high-pitched laugh which resonated around the room.

"Norman..Please. Don't let her win. I'm sorry, alright ?"

You tried to call him back, but his mother tilted her head to the side and answered in a fake apologetic tone.

"I'm sorry. Norman is gone, sweetie. It's just me now."

She approached and you knew that if you didn't start running, you would soon be dead. You flee and Mrs Bates sing-song voice followed you.

"You can run, but I'll find you..I always find them."

You locked yourself in a room and covered your mouth with your hand, muffling any sound that your mouth could utter as she passed next to your hiding place. You just needed to hold on until Norman was back..You didn't actually think he would feel so hurt by your words ? It wasn't your intention, but now you had a very angry mama Bates after you and could only pray that she wouldn't find you. You sighed. You could probably overpower her ? But she had a knife and knew how to use it. She would keep being upset for a while..

Little advice ? Don’t take a shower.

Dennis looked shocked at first..Of course, it felt good but he..he thought it meant something. He thought..They all thought..He could feel the Horde’s disappointment and some even becoming upset..They were all expecting more, but it simply wasn’t meant to be. Before anyone could stop him, Hedwig took the light and glared at you.

"You hurt, Mr Dennis..I don’t like it. We won’t let you hurt him anymore.."

You didn’t understand the warning until it was too late. Kevin’s body seemed to grow and prominent veins started bulging out as he started laughing darkly.

"Finally..I’m out."

His voice..Oh no. You jumped out of the bed and ran for your life. You knew there was no way you could talk to the beast and decided staying alive was more important. You heard his footsteps after you and locked yourself in another room. However, it didn’t stop him as he started banging on the door until it burst into pieces. You then locked yourself in the cage you had built for such an occasion and grabbed a riffle. He stared at you and the beast growled before grabbing two of the metal bars to make an opening for him to get to you..He would make you bleed for playing with the Horde’s feelings..Many had done so before and he had killed them all. He would make you feel the pain by ripping your heart right out of your chest and eat it. However, he felt a pull at the back of his head and realised that Dennis was trying to take control.

The Beast : "Why are you trying to stop me ?! He hurt us ! He hurt you !"

Dennis didn’t answer, he just kept trying to get the beast away from you and screamed as he finally succeeded in taking back the light. He then looked up at your shivering form and uttered unapologetically.

"This will be your first and final warning..Stay out of our life."

He was crying..Dennis was crying. He then felt an intense pain at the back of his head and grabbed it with both hands, attempting to calm the beast within, the beast who wanted to tear you to pieces and feed on the left overs..He then ran away and made sure you couldn’t follow him..

"I can't..I can't believe this. How could you..? How could I have been so naive ?"

She couldn’t believe it at first. Carrie had never trusted anyone as much as you and after she was almost killed by her own mother, she found comfort in you. She really thought you felt the same way and was shocked when you said this was a one time thing. A one time thing ?!

She felt abandoned all over again.

Her : "…I don’t blame you. I’m just..disappointed."

And disappointed, she was. She talked to you less and, little by little, grew more and more distant. She decided to get away before she could be hurt even more.

You finally waited for her in front of her house with your arms crossed and determined to get things right with her, but it wasn’t her who opened the door, but a rather pissed Liam who glared at you and stood in front of you with his own arms crossed.

"Can I help you ?"

You : "I’m looking for Carrie..I’m her friend. Have you seen her ?"

Liam frowned before shaking his head negatively.

"No. You aren’t."

You were confused and were about to ask what he meant by that, but he slammed the door in your face. You looked up and for a second, saw Carrie looking at you through the curtains of one of the windows.

"Carrie !"

You called her, but she ignored you and put her hands over her ears to muffle your voice. She wouldn’t let herself hope again..Fool her once, shame on you; fool her twice..Shame on her.

"I TRUSTED YOU ! I THOUGHT WHAT WE HAD WAS SPECIAL AND YOU...YOU...!"

Jason felt heartbroken. You were his first time and he never felt that much for anyone but you. And you ? You took advantage of that. He felt terrible. He started thrashing the room and screamed until his throat was sore and his voice was broken. You tried to stop him, but he threw you across the room and you hit your head against a nightstand. He stopped and you thought he would come check on you, but he just stormed out of the room, leaving the hospital staff/other slashers to take care of you.

He didn’t talk to you afterwards and you felt as if you had come back to the beginning. You tried to talk to him and apologise, but he either left the room or glared at you with such intensity that you knew it wasn’t a good idea.

You : "Jason..I’m—"

He didn’t let you finish and slammed you against the nearest wall, his hand almost crushing your windpipe. This was when you noticed the hatred in his eyes and something else you had never seen before..This undeniable want to kill that you had seen so many times, just not addressed directly to you. It was at this moment that you knew there was no turning back now. You had lost his trust.

He finally released you and you coughed loudly, crushed by the weight of the sudden surge of air in your lungs. He then walked away wordlessly. He had nothing else to say.

"...Of course ! I wouldn't have it any other way.."

He was devastated, but decided to laugh instead. Another illusion. You were just another illusion. A trick of one night. Nothing more. You wanted to use him, but he used you.

"What ? You thought I would beg or something ? I’ve spent my whole life on my knees..I won’t anymore. Not for you. Not for anyone.."

He then dressed up and smiled one last time at you before slicking his hair back and taking a deep breath. He looked at himself in your mirror and reapplied his makeup.

"Well, it was nice..I’ll be back tomorrow night. Don’t wait for me."

"B—But…!"

"What ?"

He replied shortly, almost too harshly before turning towards you.

"I…kinda thought you could stay the night ?"

You finally uttered, lowering your gaze in embarrassment. Arthur stopped dead in his tracks and, to your utter shock and horror, started laughing. It started low and soft before turning into full insane laughter.

"For what ? Another round ? No. Thank you for the terribly tempting offer."

You felt the anger and outrage in his voice as he glared at you as he had never before. He sounded disdainful and a grimace of disgust replaced his usual jovial one. He was disgusted by you..Why ? You didn’t understand..You had done nothing to earn such a reaction.

"W..Why are you so..?"

He guessed what you were trying to say next and laughed humourlessly before grabbing your jaw to force you to look at him and notice the obvious hurt in his eyes as he spat.

"You wanted to use me..It’s only normal I return the favour ?"

You felt tears in your eyes..You hadn’t realised how sensitive he could be.

"You’re unfair", you whimpered and tried to grab his hand, but he slapped yours instead with a cold smile and a hardened expression.

"How dare you ?", was all he said before leaving.

He slammed the door behind him.

[yuzukult]

bittersweet. (m) || kmg & reader

title: bittersweet. pairing: kim mingyu x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, established relationship!au word count: 3.1k warnings: dirty deed is done (aka explicit sex if you didn't catch that). profanity. prompt: you're always fighting. he doesn't get you. so why are you even still together? a/n: before any of my friends make fun of me, shaddup. anyways, this is for @/ficscafe dialogue prompt event! i'll be using #14: you make me weak.

He’s so adamant.

The crinkle in between his brows, the scrunch of his nose, and his incessant blinking from all the nerves, despite it all, he still stands firm on his beliefs.

But you’re fighting. Always fighting.

He doesn’t get you—he spends most of the time he's with you arguing about how insensitive you are as a person, how nonchalant you can be when you should be reacting with some type of emotion, and how he wished you’d been more affectionate with him.

But he doesn’t understand you. He thinks you’re selfish (sure, he didn’t outright state this, but you can sense him feeling this way.)

Albeit you’re unsure how you got yourself in this position—back flat against the wall, his hands on your wrists with his crotch pinning yours as your legs wrap around him securely to meet his gaze from the height difference.

“I need you to talk to me,” he rasps, anger filled in his voice. “I’m so tired of making this into some guessing game. Why can’t you just tell me how you feel?”

Although he’s got you cornered, rutting his hips into you once again, it's not persuasive enough. “Talk to me.”

“If you can’t figure me out, maybe we should just break up. I didn’t want to date in the first place.”

Jaw clenched, his eyes continue to melt into yours. He’s looking for anything—a sign, a glimpse, a crack in your exterior to see whatever it is you’re truly feeling inside. “Why do you always use that as a solution? Instead of just communicating?”

“Because—“ you halt, breath hitching when he shifts, the head of his cock rubbing against your bud through your thin material shorts. “—Because it’s an easier solution. What do you expect from me?”

“To tell me and show me if you like me or not. You’re like a fucking boulder. I can’t move you.”

You quirk a brow. “Your fucking holding me down right now. You’ve evidently proved you can move me elsewhere.”

“Emotionally,” he says, exasperated. “The most I can get you to feel something is when we’re fucking. I’m surprised we’re even fucking in the first place. You barely let me hold your hand!”

Rolling your eyes, you pull your arms from his hold and he lets go easily. It’s the type of person Mingyu is—he’s gentle, the complete opposite of you, with a heart of gold that everyone loves and appreciates. He’s lovable, known to many, and desired by them all, and somehow, you got him in your grasp and truthfully… you’re not sure what to do.

He’s fragile, but you have rough hands with toughened skin from years of experience and encounters. There’s this fear that you’ll drop him, shatter him into pieces as brittle as chinaware. So you hold the front, keep yourself strong with a facade tougher than concrete, because you’re afraid if you hold on too tight, he might break. And at the same time, he might break you too.

“You wanna know why?” You finally blurt, words firm and sharp. “Because you make me weak. And I don’t like being weak. I don’t like being known as weak. And you—you do that to me. I hate it.”

He furrows his brows. “I make you weak? The one girl I know to be the most resilient?” Mingyu has to scoff in disbelief because it’s the first time he’s hearing this. “You realize how insane you sound? It’s okay to have feelings for me. It’s why we’re together.”

Nose twitching, you suck in your cheeks. “I hate it. I hate this. I hate that when you turn to look at me in the morning, you give me that fucking… smile. Like I’m your whole world. Like you’re head over heels for me and I’m all that you see.”

“And why do you hate that?”

“Because, some part of me, deep down into the abyss, wants to look at you like that too.”

His jaw loosens, just like the restraints he had over his heart in the past hour of arguing, hands now finding purchase on your thighs to pull you back up closer. “Baby…” he calls out for you softly, the term of endearment nearly bursting your heart, but you keep yourself calm and collected as you normally do. “Then do it. Why are you so scared?”

“I told you.”

“That’s not a good enough reason.”

“Well, it’s good enough for me.”

He heaves a heavy breath. “Baby, I can’t keep doing this. I feel like I’m chasing you but I’m getting nothing out of it.”

Then, you reiterate the same words you’ve said multiple times, but there’s never any genuinity in it because you never actually… meant it. “Then let’s break up.”

“We’re not breaking up.”

“Then what do you want to do? Tell me. If breaking up isn’t the option, then tell me instead of having me up the wall if we’re not gonna fuck.”

“Fucking only happens when you’re pissed or when you’re making up.”

“So, what now?”

It’s Mingyu’s turn to roll his eyes. “We make up. I need you to talk to me. I can barely read you—the only thing I know for sure is that you don’t want this to end because you just admitted to me that you wanna look at me the same way I look at you.”

Frustrated, you let your head drop onto the wall behind you. “This is annoying. I don’t like expressing stuff. You just take what you get or leave. If you can’t figure out what’s going through my mind, what’s the point? Why put in the effort?” Eyes fluttering shut, you feel yourself wanting to crawl into a ball and just… hide. Despite being fully clothed, you feel naked when Mingyu asks for more. And what he’s asking for isn’t even unreasonable—you’re just horrible at telling people what you’re feeling. “I just… why can’t I just let you lay your head on my lap when you get home from work? Or… cook dinner with you. Even have it ready when you have long nights at work. Maybe even fold your laundry—I don’t know. I don’t like PDA but if you asked me, I’d hold your hand under the table. Or… hold it in your pocket on cold days.”

Then, Mingyu stays silent (for the first time).

It finally hits.

You’re not outspoken when it comes to soft things. You’re loving but not in the same way he is. You’re also honest and straightforward about everything except when it comes to admitting feelings for him.

And for once, when you say those words, he… he feels loved by you.

He remembers those days—after spending hours at the gym despite having a long work day, he’d come home and you’re there waiting for him on the couch so you could shower together. You’d help scrub his limp body, even though he moans and groans about how sore he is, but you do it nonetheless because you like him. Or when you stopped by at his apartment, one he shares with all his friends, because he was stuck with helping one of them build their beds and you brought them all, including himself, lunch. And that wasn’t to mention you were already working twelve hour days.

“Can you answer one question for me, then? I won’t force you to tell me again. I just need to hear it once.”

Your eyes open, and it feels like a mistake because your heart drops into your stomach. His gaze is hypnotizing, like he’s got you in a trance, and you respond with a ‘yes’ without much thought because of him.

Mingyu swallows all his anxiety before asking that million dollar question.

“Do you love me?”

Although you feel small being put on the spot like that, the one thing you’ll admit is that you’ve already predetermined the answer to this. And just as much courage as Mingyu puts into asking, you’ll reciprocate and do the same in answering because he’s admirable for even trying.

“Yes.”

Without much thought, he presses his lips against yours. You love him, although you rarely if not never say it, but you finally said those words and all he needs is to hear it just once for assurance. To know that there’s something he’s chasing for, that he’s not running in place like on a treadmill.

Arms snaking around his neck, you keep your hold there as his hands reach to your jaw, leveraging the kiss in an angle he’d prefer. When you kiss, he feels complete. He’s never felt like this with another girl before, this feeling of home, the feeling of comfort. You’re colder than brisk winters, but something about having you in his arms makes him warm.

Your fingers comb through his locks, and although it’s doused in gel and spent hours on doing this morning, he doesn’t mind because he knows he’s yours. When you kiss him back, he’s as anxious as he was when he had to go on stage and perform in front of people for the first time.

Gently pulling away, both your lips are pink and swollen with a string of saliva connecting between. Pants brushing against each other’s face, a soft smile tugs on the edges of your lips as you feel heat creeping up your neck.

“I love you too,” he says, as low as a whisper. “And… I’m okay if you don’t say it again. You know how I show you that I love you… and I should’ve been better at learning what you’re comfortable with in showing how you love. But I still need you to help, too, to make this… better. I need you to talk to me, when you need me. When I need you. I need you to be here for me too.”

“Okay,” you respond, volume matching his. “If that’s the case, I love you. Just… as another reminder since I only said yes the first time.”

He lets out a chuckle, vibrating from his chest and everything about him makes your heart race. “Good. Can I show you how much I love you?”

“No,” you retort quickly and bashfully. But he knows you’re playing because you nod afterwards, allowing him to carry you to the couch. “Maybe.”

“I need a yes, love,” Mingyu says cheekily, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You know I’m not going to go any further until I hear it.”

“Yes,” you reply embitterly, but Mingyu knows better now. He knows what you want, because all he needed was assurance. “Please show me how much you love me.”

And fuck, because he never knew how much he needed to hear those words all his life.

You’re so pretty when he has you stripped down to nothing, laid out on the leather couch of your living room; hair messy, mouth gaped open from all his teasing, and with an arm covering your face because it’s all too much for you. Mingyu is a passionate lover, you’ve come to recognize, and although it’s all an unfamiliar territory, you love him and you’re willing to step into the unknown.

“How am I doing?” He asks, as if he doesn’t have his head in between your legs and a grip on the meat of your thighs. He loves the taste of you, he reminds you plenty of times, but dirty talk coming from such an innocent face makes you slightly embarrassed. “Feels good?”

“Shut up,” you hiss, avoiding his infatuated stare. “Just… just fucking do it, you asshole.”

“What? Show you how much I love you?”

There’s a tornado in the pit of your stomach. He keeps saying things that make you awkward because you’ve never been loved like how Mingyu loves.

You don’t react, and this displeases him. Laying his tongue flat out against your cunt, he gives you another lick that lets a whimper escape from your lips. “Tell me, baby. Am I doing a good job?”

“Yes,” you croak, only because you feel like he’s got you in this position for so long. You’re so exposed, and he at least has his boxers to protect him like a shield, but you’re all out in the open. (Not to mention his fucking built body. He makes you feel so insecure about yours—how is this puppy looking boy so… wide? What the fuck?) “Can you… can you take that off?”

He leans up, tilting his head in confusion and now you can see how hard he is in his undergarments. “My… my boxers?”

“Yeah. I feel like… I’m the only one exposed here.”

He laughs. “Baby, we’ll get to that.”

“Now.”

Mingyu snorts. “Anything my baby wants.” He bumps foreheads with you gingerly, something he's always done playfully, and tugs off his boxers swiftly as requested. “Let me make you cum first and—“

“No,” you interject, eyes closed and biting down on your bottom lip. It's the only way to remain bold—to not look him in the eye because he’ll melt you like a stick of butter left on the kitchen counter. “Show me how you love me.”

Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to shuffle quickly through the little stash hidden on the first shelf underneath your coffee table (he likes to be prepared in every situation even though this is your apartment) and finally spots the condom he hid a week ago. Tearing it open rapidly, he gives himself a couple pumps that have beads of precum building at the top and slips the rubber on with ease. “Ready?”

“For you?” Mingyu gulps, because before today, you’ve rarely said anything that made his heart stutter. “Anything.”

With a push of the head of his cock into your heat, a quiet wince escapes from your lips and his chocolate orbs are saturated in apologies. He doesn’t want you to feel pain, especially not you, but even his efforts to loosen you up beforehand, you still manage to be so tight around him every time. It feels good to have you around him snugly, yet he knows the consequence of the beginning is the ache in between your legs from the first intrusion.

“I’m sorry, bub,” Mingyu presses a tender kiss on your forehead. “Bear with me, yeah?”

“Mm,” you hum dismissively, warming up when he finally slides himself all the way in. He stills, in fear that you’re hurt, but instead, you’re surprisely impatient as you cross your legs behind him and pull him close. Bringing your lips close to his ears, you breathe, “fuck me, baby.”

Mingyu laughs brightly, and your jaw clenches. “What?”

“After today, I’m not going to fuck you.” You quirk a brow. “I’m gonna make love to you.”

“Don’t make me throw up. You’re ruining the moment.”

He grins mischievously before pulling out and shoving himself back in swiftly that earns a groan from you. “Oh? Am I?”

“Stop playing, Mingyu,” you state sternly, but Mingyu is enjoying himself too much. “Or else you're not getting any for the month.”

Well, that does the trick.

He has his hands on your hips, pushed down against the seat cushions of your loveseat couch, hips once flushed against yours now thrusting into your throbbing pussy. God, you’re fucking done for, honestly, because he’s a pro with his hips when he angles it just right that he’s brushing against your swollen clit, hitting so deep into you.

“Fuck—“

“You curse too much, baby,” Mingyu puffs, pecking the side of your lips sloppily. “Everyone thinks I’m such a nice guy and when they meet my—fuck—g-girlfriend and find out how much of a dirty mouth she has, they’re always struck.”

“Too fucking bad,” you spit, fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders. He’s so big, stretching you with each shove, but you’d never tell him that or his ego would inflate. “Stop talking and fuck me harder.”

Mingyu loves. He loves and loves, and although you won’t pretend that he comes to your home often with crumpled pieces of papers with girls’ names and numbers on them that fall into the catch-all bowl by the door with his keys, you don’t forget that besotted daze he falls into the moment he sees you. So when you ask for something, he delivers without fail.

Abiding by your urge, his hips move briskly, pistoning into you as fast as he can. Biceps tense, you can’t help but let your hands slip there, gripping onto the muscle and has you wondering fuck, how did you get so lucky? He’s hot, cute, sweet, loving and geez, he could fuck. He’s so clumsy, so dumb sometimes, but he’s so freaking lovable it makes you sick. Lovesick.

His pretty eyes shut close, you notice, because those two cups of hot chocolate are gone and he’s chewing on his bottom lip as he groans, ends of his hair that brush over his eyes now drenched in sweat. His skin glistens underneath the dim lights, and he reminds you of the stars in the night sky—so gorgeous, so special. Always a sight to see.

“Fuck,” the not-so-innocent boy curses (even though he just said you curse too much) “Baby, you just got so tight. Are you about to cum?”

“Possibly,” you manage to say, still attempting to play games even though Mingyu could very so threaten to steal your orgasm away from the tip of your fingers. But when he slightly shifts in the midst of his pounding, you let out a raspy, “Almost,” because he’s rubbing against your nub incessantly that you’re losing all your focus.

When you finally see those stars, you let go.

Mingyu feels this, grunting when you convulse around his dick, head dropping to watch you tug and tug around him, begging for him to cum. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long because after a couple thrusts, he stills, spilling ropes of cum into the condom and dropping the entirety of his weight onto you, face snug into the crook of your neck once again.

“I—“

“You’re heavy.”

“Fuck, baby, we just had sex and that’s the first thing you say?”

He can’t see you, but there’s a smile on your face. “Yeah. And you got my couch all sticky from your sweat. Not to mention the cum. Are you gonna clean it after?”

Mingyu doesn’t care. He’s blissful. He’s happy. He knows you’re going to toss a damp rag at him later, despite his dick out and still drenched in your arousal, and tell him to ‘wipe down the fucking couch because that’s gross.’

All because he knows that you love him.

[cinnamonest]

no thoughts head empty only torn between soft gentle albedo and your fucking sadistic degenerate blood thirsty version of albedo

Ah, but why not both?

Similar to what I said for Xiao before, if you reach a point where you're sweet and compliant and accepting, he can be so sweet too. Creates little flowers and the like for you, ones you like the most. Since he's up there doing research all day, he doesn't really have to leave for long periods of time like some others, but instead will come back into the little living space from outside every little while or so, maybe, if you're good, even take you outside to sit in the sunshine. You can help, even, with the work he's doing, little odd tasks like counting or time-keeping with an hourglass or just handing him things he needs. Even if he could easily do it, he knows these days you get a little serotonin hit from being helpful.

Draws pictures of you when you sleep or do idle tasks and don't see him... it goes right in the sketchbook dedicated to pictures of you, one he used to stay up late at night to draw in, trying to perfect the details of your face. He used to fear that if you were gone for so long, he might one day no longer be able to perfectly recall your features, so he needed to perfect drawing you before that happened... but things worked out for the better.

He starts noticing your poor knees get all reddened from friction on the floor, having to crawl around, so he makes you little makeshift padding to wrap around them, keep it from hurting so much. Once, you tried to sit up on your knees and numb little calves, trying to get something off a countertop that was just out of your reach, only to knock over some experiment in a jar, sending glass everywhere. You couldn't even try to move without dragging yourself through it, had to just sit there and wait, weakly crying out for him... the poor thing was so worried, kept checking your body over and over to make sure you didn't have glass anywhere. The actual broken object was forgotten, despite it being something he'd worked hard on... that wasn't really something that crossed his mind, too concerned with worry about you.

It's not like there's anyone up here monitoring him, and so some days he works ahead and gets a lot accomplished so that he can afford to take one day off... just lay in bed. It's nice to just lay there and hold you, while the winds blow outside. He likes it best when one's head is in the other's chest -- he likes holding your head close to his, but certainly could also use your tits as pillows too. There's never a lot of words spoken on those days, as there's not really anything to be said. You eat in bed those days, make warm drinks to deal with the general cold that seeps from outside. Sometimes you lay together while he reads by night, and if you ask he can read out loud to you -- it's never anything interesting, mostly just textbooks or his own notes, but something about his voice is so calming, and if you lay your head on his chest while he does, the vibrations and his heartbeat can easily lull you to sleep. But together, you take long naps, only broken up by equally lazy, gentle sex every little while, less the thrusting kind and more just sliding inside and grinding your bodies together where they connect. Lots of little forehead kisses. It's so pleasant, so sweet, you could almost forget everything, almost forget how you got there, almost forget the circumstances and memories.

Almost.

The cycle becomes so repetitive you can't really distinguish between days anymore, it all feels like one endless dream, until the moments that you fuck up.

You know exactly when you do -- it's as if that tranquil atmosphere around you is a tangible object, a fragile, glass thing that you can sense shatter in a single word or action. You know it when you see a complete and immediately change in facial expression -- his eyes narrow and his eyebrows furrow together.

It's remarkable how quickly that soft arm gently wrapped around your waist can become a hand crushing your throat with it's grip. His naturally soft voice can become so cold. You're already apologizing before anything happens, like a trigger setting off a complete change in your disposition to whimpering, pleading. If you're lucky, it will work, you can be forgiven for whatever transgression you've committed without having to suffer for it. Other times, he has to make sure the point sinks in.

[hrbertwest]

Crash Landing On You

Summary: Technically, though, you did sign up for this - this, being one of the protectors of this city and its people. Getting shot is nothing but your usual workplace hazard. But getting shot at with a fucking rocket launcher to the head by one of Kingpin’s henchmen was new.

It was fucking overkill.

What the fuck.

OR: You're a fledgling heroine who landed in a strange place after almost dying. Doesn't get less strange from there, to be honest.

Set vaguely in the Raimi movie-verse but will have mentions of other characters that weren't present in those movies. Or even the same franchise. || Doc Ock x (f)Reader

//

A/N: a few months ago i saw doc ock on the nwh trailer and uh... this happened. lol. so please enjoy this self-indulgent mess. feedback will be greatly appreciated, heheh. the reader is filipino-coded so buckle up and i hope you like sinigang. but i'll try not to overdo it, lol. Also on AO3

TW: slight gore, body horror, canon-typical violence (maybe even more?? who knows!)

Chapter 1:

I didn’t sign up for this shit!!!!!!!!!!! multiple exclamation points and all, was what was going through your head while you were freefalling.

You would have screamed if you could. Or maybe you had been screaming? You weren’t sure. Any sound you would have made had been swallowed by the wind. It shrieks inside your ears, inside your head, like the wailing of a banshee.

Your necktie is a white mirage that you can barely focus on as it flutters in the air.

Your long hair whips around you.

You don’t know how long you‘ve been falling.

Technically, though, you did sign up for this - this, being one of the protectors of this city and its people. Getting shot at is nothing but your usual workplace hazard. Normally - usually, you could handle being shot.

A bullet or two (or an entire round) to the leg, to the chest? To the head? Why not. Fire away, assholes!

It fuels the satisfaction that surges through your veins when they continue pulling the trigger even though they know they’re empty and you’re still standing. It’s even more fun when you smash their faces in. Nothing too fatal, you’re not a killer, geez -

It’s not like you couldn’t feel it, on the contrary, you could already tell what type of bullet you’ve been hit with depending on how painful it is. But you have a healing factor like nobody’s business - one of the perks of being a capital H- Hero, so you limp back to your apartment just when the sun is about to rise, sleep it off, trudge to your day job, and fight crimes at night.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

But getting shot with a fucking rocket launcher to the head by one of Kingpin’s henchmen was new.

It was fucking overkill.

What the fuck.

You’re lucky that your mask - a magically reinforced porcelain - was able to take the brunt of the impact. While it’s still attached to your face, a good chunk of it was shattered beyond repair, and you really don’t wanna know what your face looks like right now. You’d go as far as guessing that it’s at least mangled, based on how intense the pain is, nothing that won���t completely heal, but it feels like you high-fived a bullet train at full speed with your face.

Going after Kingpin and his men by yourself was a stupid move, and you could do without Spider-Man looking all smug once you see each other again - he’s actually quite expressive, despite the mask! He wouldn’t be mean about it, but you know he’ll be giving you that look from under his mask that’s not so different from when Sr. Rosario would guilt you into confessing why you got into a fight at school for the fifth time that week.

“Don’t go in alone, Skytoucher.” You remember Spider-Man saying from the other line, shortly before your phone call informing him of what you discovered ends. “ I’m almost there. Wait for me, okay?”

But Kingpin’s thugs were about to escape to another state and you didn’t know how almost there your red-and-blue clad friend was, so…

It was pathetic how those lowlife lackeys were able to swat you away like a fly. You barely got a glimpse of the big man himself, dressed in a pristine white suit, his bald head shining with perspiration and his eyes burning like coals as he watched you fall like a puppet whose strings were cut.

Some hero you are.

'Skytoucher In A Suit Saves A Family From Fire!’ was the first official headline that The Daily Bugle had for you, complete with a grainy picture of you in the air, an old lady in your arms. You had on a cheap plastic mask then, like the ninth member of the Jabbawockeez that just got out of a job interview.

Your copy is sealed inside a ziplock bag, buried deep within your closet. You remember being unable to wipe off the stupidly giddy smile on your face that day because come on, while you literally just rushed inside a bodega that has leftover Halloween masks, Skytoucher sounds cool. Of course, the next time your name appears on the paper, you were described as the suited menace - because you were wearing a suit, see? - and the article is basically a 500-word insinuation that you’re secretly in cahoots with the group of robbers you literally just stopped.

Now, though, you weren’t doing much in terms of touching the sky . Your healing factor is most likely on overdrive. Overtime..? Over whatever - The point is, your body is more focused on healing you as fast as it can than keeping you in the air after being shot by - and narrowly avoiding - a fucking rocket launcher. And honestly, even if you were able to fly at the moment, you’re not sure you weren’t gonna crash into some billboard or building because you’re pretty sure you’ve got a concussion.

You weren’t sure how high up you still are, but you could just make out the growing brightness of the city far below with your right eye.

All you can hope for is that you’ll crash somewhere with not a lot of people around.

Damages incurred by New York’s newest hero aren't covered by insurance policies yet, after all.

You're still falling. Miles above you, distant stars twinkle lazily.

Your head hurts.

You allowed the darkness to take over, letting yourself be swallowed back by the city that never sleeps.

\\

The force of what might have been a hundred wrecking balls shook the entirety of the dilapidated, abandoned warehouse that Otto Octavius now calls home.

Perhaps someone figured out that the old abandoned warehouse is where the Octopus has been hiding. Maybe it was someone he’d hurt in the past, and they found him and decided to settle the score. It was something that he’d been expecting, hell, he’d been more or less waiting for any form of retribution, ever since Spider-Man - the memory of him almost squishing Parker’s head like a watermelon made him wince - was able to barely fish him out of the river.

Or it could very well be a new masked individual on the playground, someone who might have figured out that the old Octopus isn’t dead after all and would like to prove their worth by killing him.

He walked to where the commotion was, slowly, silently, keeping as far into the darkness as he can; jaw clenched and actuators hidden but poised to strike if (when?) necessary.

The roof of the corner of the warehouse that he reworked as a kitchen/workstation has collapsed into a pile of rubble, broken concrete, and splintered wood. He didn’t know what he expected, honestly, as he glanced around the wreckage for a sign of… anything. Demolition machinery. The Green Goblin on his hoverboard, bone-chilling laughter included. A squadron of NYPD, ready to bring him to jail. A crater caused by a meteorite.

But aside from the hole in his roof, the place was empty and quiet. No hollow cavity on the ground.

He finds nothing until a strange movement above him catches his eye, and he looks up, preparing for the worst.

A good few meters above him, he sees a pair of legs, clad in dark pantsuit, dangling from the edge of the hole.

What the hell…

Was a dead body disposed of on the roof of his warehouse? It doesn’t make sense. The crash was way too loud for the conclusion to be that simple. Unless… unless it came from a much higher location?

Otto almost jumped when the legs began twitching. He stared in disbelief, wondering if he’s witnessing some sort of cadaveric spasm, and it took him a second too long to realize that whoever this person is, they’re still alive - it’s not post-death spasms because the movement carried on far too long for it to be the remaining flecks of someone’s life.

And they’re actively trying to shimmy down the hole.

They were probably trying to find somewhere they could slot their feet into, legs pinwheeling in the empty air, but there was nothing - they were a good three meters in the air, for heaven’s sake! - and they were moving too quickly. Enough for them to lose what little balance they have.

Faster than his brain was able to catch up with his body, Otto had lunged forward, his human arms raised as the person on his roof crashed down on him, lower actuators anchoring themselves into the floor just in time to support both him and his unexpected guest.

He looks at the person in his arms and sees the familiar blank porcelain on their face and he takes in a breath because -

It’s you -

Another pest that bothered him while Spider-Man went on a brief awol.

Sky… something. Skyhunter ? He remembers you cornering him in a skyscraper in Manhattan, and to get away from you, he’d wrapped an actuator around your leg before hurling you against the window, only for you to stay afloat, a hand on your waist and your head cocked sideways as if saying, “I can fly, stupid.” A flash of phantom pain from the kick you gave his jaw as payback flares up along with the memory.

Another time, you had caught him in one of his… darker moods. Shame and regret twist his gut as he remembers one of his actuators impaling your stomach. You looked down on your wound, and he could imagine a look of shock? fear? behind your mask. Only, you look back up at him, white porcelain impassive as always, before saying, “At least buy me dinner first before penetrating me, you fucking prick.”

Looking back, he could have reacted better, but in the heat of the moment, he responded by pulling off the heavy steel vault door and casting it in your direction. You dodged it by somersaulting backward. He barely escaped the bank, the broken nose he sustained and the almost severed lower-left actuator had nothing to do anything with the unease that lingered in his mind. He felt his actuator go through you, he remembers seeing your bloodstain the white marble floors of the bank when he pulled out his limb…and you mouth off on him a few seconds later like it was nothing, whereas the bank's security guards that received the same treatment lay dead.

A groan escapes from under your mask, and it brings him back to the present. He always knew you were on the shorter side, barely reaching his shoulders and he’s made fun of your height more than once or twice during your skirmishes, but right now, it's like he’s holding a broken doll in his arms. Something like pity stirs up inside him.

Your mask dissolves into nothingness with a faint hiss and an even fainter violet glow. The scientist in him was curious - how were you able to do that? Was it a hologram of sorts? That might explain the glow. But it did not look like a hologram - and from all of his encounters with you, he's pretty sure he'd smash your mask more times than he could count and he knows it’s solid.

Another groan, a little louder this time. Flo peaks over his shoulder as he checked for any injury, and the image feed that was projected to his head almost made him drop you -

“Christ!” He blurts out, adjusting his grip on you to make sure you don’t get any more injured as you are now.

While half of your face is unscathed, the other side could only be described as nothing more than a mass of torn, gory skin and a partially exposed skull - and an equally dark, circular mass where your left eyeball should be.

Just what in the world happened to you?

And then you stir, your eye fluttering open and Otto Octavius was now a hundred percent sure that the remaining vestiges of his sanity finally snapped because you were gazing up at him with an eye as black as midnight.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, - I’m…whereammi?” You slurred, pulling yourself upwards, craning your head as much as you could to take a look at your surroundings. It must have been too dark for you to see anything. You slump your head into the crook of his arm, gazing up at him with a void-like eye. “Wazzat on your shoulder?”

A pause, and then -

Flo clicks behind him.

“That’s a tentacle, right?” You asked. “Wait - Doctor Octopus?”

“It’s Octavius.” He released a heavy sigh. “And it’s called an actuator, Skyhunter.”

“Skytoucher .”

“Skytoucher, of course. My apologies.”

“You’re supposed to be dead - wait, wait, wait, this suuuucks … a-am I dead?”

“You’re not dead. I think.”

“Oh. That’s... yeah. Okay. Cool,” You said, nodding to yourself. “Wait - you think ?”

“You landed here, Skytoucher. In my house. I’m not sure exactly where you fell from, though.”

“I got shot out of a helicopter. Did I break something?”

Did you just say… helicopter? He didn’t know if you were aware of the extent of your injury. Instead, Otto shifts a little, still carrying you in his arms as he turns the both of you to where you landed.

He feels you wince below him. “Sorry I broke your… house, Doc. I can help fix it if you want,”

“You don’t have to, it’s -”

“Did you catch me?” You interrupt.

“What?”

“You said - you said I fell. I… remember falling. Did you catch me?”

For all of his brains, Otto has no idea where this conversation is headed. “Not exactly, but you could say that I suppose. Do you think you can stand?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

He sets you down gently, slightly uncomfortable with how close the injured side of your face is to his, but he hovers nearby to make sure you stay on your feet.

“Spider-Man says you died. In the river.” You said quietly. “Does he know you’re…”

“He does. He’s the one that pulled me out of the water.”

“Right,” You scratch the back of your head, feeling the awkwardness settle between the two of you. “Sorry, are - you’re like, not gonna hit me with a car or something, right?”

He frowns. “Why would I do that?”

“I just… it was your thing before? And I uh… discovered your hideout so… I just wanna know if you’ll do something because I’m honestly kinda fucked up right now? So if you just, not do that? Hit me with a car, I mean?”

He snorts. “Like you need more damage to your face?”

“Ha?” You asked sharply. The shadows of his dark warehouse didn’t help make you look less unsettling. “A-anong … damage? What damage?”

“I think it’s best for you to see for yourself, Skytoucher. There’s a bathroom down the hall. Second door to the right.”

Your face hardens as a humorless laugh escapes you. “You think I’m dumb enough to fall for another trap? I almost got my head blown off by Kingpin and I conveniently land here? With you? When you’re supposed to be dead? Spider-Man wouldn’t lie. Have you been working for Kingpin? He tells you to finish me off? Another rocket launcher-holding bastard is waiting for me behind door number four, is that it?”

“Work for? No, I don’t! Why would I work for - ” Otto felt his temper rising at your question. Work for? He can already tell a headache is forming, and the chittering of his actuators certainly doesn’t help. He takes a deep breath, pressing the bridge of his nose, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling. “I’ve been hiding here for the past two years, Skygirl . I am not working for anybody. Definitely not for that crook. And if you must know, your skull is out. Kingpin got you real good, didn’t he?”

It was almost comical, the way your eye widened as you bleat, “W-what?”

“I said -”

“No, shut up, I heard you!” You cried, a hand now gingerly tracing the side of your injured face. Upon feeling your soft, tender muscles, your features twisted into a grimace. Otto wasn’t doing much better. “ Eeeew, is this my bone? Doc, you gotta tell me, is it bad - No duh, of course, it’s bad! I know it’s bad! Why wouldn’t it be bad? I mean - heh - I literally got shot in the face with a rocket launcher!”

“A what?” He interrupts.

“Rocket launcher! One of Kingpin’s goons shot me because I was chasing them!”

“I thought you could fly?”

“I can fly! Weren't you listening? I got shot, Doc! They were on a helicopter! And I was flying after them! It wouldn’t have mattered if it was a normal gun! But it was a rocket launcher, Doc! Like, what the fuck!”

Well. That answers where you came from.

But you were hyperventilating, hands combing through your long hair as you started breathing rapidly, mumbling in a foreign language he can’t understand. Hesitantly, he puts a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. “Skygirl, I need you to calm down, can you do that for me?”

You keep mumbling under your breath, not looking at him.

“Skygirl, look at me,” He tries again, actuators snaking to your sides before they lift you a couple of feet off the ground and giving you a gentle shake. As much as he didn’t want to touch others with his actuators, it was effective enough for you to look at him. "Skygirl, are you listening?”

“I - I am,” Your tongue peeks out to wet your lips, but the sight is made gorier because he can see inside your mouth from your open wound. For the first time, he’s lucky that he skipped out on dinner. “I’m listening.”

“Good. You’re fine. I know you can heal, do you feel yourself healing?”

You nod meekly.

"Do you need anything for uh, something you help with your -” He gestures to his face.

You shook your head.

“Do you want to use the bathroom?”

“Please.”

He sets you down before answering, “Second door to the right.” He even jerked a thumb over his back for good measure. He watched as you limped to the direction he pointed you at, worried that you might collapse. Or attack him. He'd really, rather not hurt you.

You made it to the bathroom without further incident, and he waited for the soft click of the lock before walking to his study, trying to remember where he hid the hastily scrawled phone number Spider-Man left him in case of emergencies.

--

** "Ha? A-anong.." is translated as "Huh? W-what?"